(no subject)

[dickism]

WHO: Dick, Kyna, Bellamy + others
WHERE: All around New Amsterdam
WHEN: IC September
WHAT: Various open/closed starters
NOTES OR WARNINGS: n/a

Comments

sam

[dickism]

[Dick has become used to having the rooftops of this city pretty much to himself. If he keeps away from the gardens and sitting areas, it’s quiet and largely empty. No other superheroes or villains to interrupt his night, other than his brothers.

Now, as always, being up here clears his head. For a few hours, all of his problems seem small and manageable. It’s that unmatchable adrenaline rush that soothes him more than any meditation or yoga ever could. All he’d need to make it perfect is a crowd.

He’s a little in his own head when he hops to the next rooftop, and so he registers the man already there a split second late. It throws him completely—even in the admittedly low light, the guy still looks older, and there’s no way to just stroll onto this roof. He had to have climbed or jumped.]

Sorry. Am I interrupting?

open

[evocation]

[Kyna is trying to take Lance's advice—no freaking out. Sam could come back any day. Moping is much different than freaking out, however, and so she's parked herself at the bar at Red Wings, secretly hoping some of her coworkers will take pity on her and give her free drinks. She's also brought in some abomination from a food cart—fries doused in "cheese sauce product", buffalo sauce and fake bacon bits, the sort of cheap ingredients that are probably more salt than anything else. It's perfect for drowning her sorrows in, though.

Sure, yeah, she and Sam weren't dating. They were just sort of sleeping together, and only briefly. And maybe she's still in denial about her forming crush, but there's one thing she isn't in denial about—Sam was one of her closest friends here, and that makes it hurt more than any silly crush or physical attraction could. So yes, she's on her way to getting drunk, and if Sam does come back, he never has to find out.]

[incelligent]

[Simon's nose isn't accustomed to the overly indulgent and salty foods of the real world, and so the stench that wafts over to him is enough to make him wrinkle his nose.]

Whew! God, that smells...

[Usually, he's not one to open up, to start a conversation with another person, unless it serves his nefarious schemes in some form or way. At least, if it involves speaking to adults. He is lonely, however.

A big part of him still very much misses Grace.]

Are you sure you wanna eat that?

[evocation]

[It absolutely reeks in that way that only cheap nacho cheese from a machine can. However, mature as always, Kyna just makes direct eye contact with Simon and pops a huge, gooey fry in her mouth.]

[incelligent]

Eugh. Disgusting.

[Ew. Simon is also reminded of how much he hates loud chewing sounds.

Even though he himself is a loud chewer. To be fair, he just hates himself.]

You're gonna be the one suffering the consequences tonight, not me.

[He turns away, but only partly. A little curious. He can see the glow that's visible through her clothes but is too socially awkward to entertain the conversation further. Plus she seems... Is she drunk? And sad?

Sad and drunk???]

Some guy break your heart or somethin'?

[Simon please don't just Assume Things]

[evocation]

[It hits just a hair too close to home, although silently Kyna brushes it off. Of course not. She's just missing her friend. But still, the comment puts her hackles up, and so she makes a face.]

Yeah, my husband cheated on me, thanks for asking.

[What a liar.]

[baltimores]

[ It's one of those days where he doesn't really have anywhere to be, so, might as well end up at Red Wings. Probably just drink a little, kill some time, go back to what passes for home nowadays, sleep. Just an unremarkable day.

Except when he enters and gets a first glance at the interior he can see a familiar figure sitting at the bar, even if it's just her back towards him. And she's alone so, hey, why the hell not. Amos makes his way over to his friend/current roommate, parking himself right down next to Kyna and immediately getting a strong impression of the fries and... whatever else they're drowning in.

He looks down at it for a second, then up at her. ]

Are those actually any good?

[ He's maybe kinda intrigued. Being back on Earth has made food something of an adventure again, mostly for the better. This is definitely new though. ]

[evocation]

[She's glad to see Amos, actually. He doesn't get the enthusiastic greeting he'd usually get, but she shoots him a little smile, sliding the fries toward him and scooting her stool closer, too. Maybe Amos will be willing to drink with her and complain about how bullshit this place is. Or maybe he'll be willing to just listen to her complain.]

It depends on your definition of "good".

[baltimores]

[ The smaller smile is noted, as are the fries. Both would probably point to something being wrong - or, well, maybe not wrong, but not ideal circumstances - but first things first. He reaches for a fry sticking out over the edge, liberating it from its saucy pool and popping it in his mouth before it gets too droopy.

He feels like it's something he should find distasteful but... he likes it, maybe? It's definitely junk but sometimes junk is nice. Amos' expression brightens a little. He gets something to wash this down with and it might work. ]

Dunno if I always have the right definition. [ Story of his life. He goes for a second fry while they're still there, so that should indicate some level of approval, even if things seem off otherwise.

Giving Kyna his full attention again, ] What's the occasion?

[evocation]

[It's cute, the way his expression shifts, and she gives the fries a little wave as though to say go wild. With most people, she might brush that question off, but somehow Amos has very quickly found his way into the circle of people Kyna trusts. He certainly understands how confusing emotions can be, after all.]

I'm moping.

[She says it quietly, a little self-deprecating.]

Sam's gone. I think.

[variate]

[ there's a little side of curry that he's offering her to dip those already atrocious fries in.

Ren places his hands on the counter and leeeeans over into her space just a little bit. the light flashes off his glasses, hiding his eyes, and he holds up a side of mixed peppers. ]

Can I spice that up for you?

[evocation]

[Curry is a genius idea that she never would have come up with, and her face lights up instantly. Something about his expression combined with that offer, though, doesn't seem like it bodes well.]

Do your worst.

[Famous last words.]

[variate]

[ without further hesitation, he dumps the combination of hot chilis and sweet peppers on top of those fries. they're cut in little rings, so they can be easily scooped up with the cheese.

he accompanies it with a large glass of water.

if you're not gonna cry because of what's in your heart, Kyna, it will be because of the spicy peppers. ]

Challenge accepted.

[evocation]

[God, that's a lot. And hey, maybe she can use this as an excuse to cry.

But first, she pats the stool next to her.]

I have to share, right? Dig in.

[livrer]

[ At this point, Booker has more or less become a fixture of Red Wings without working there — about as useful as a broken stool, and about as talkative as one too. He's got his usual drink in front of him, glass half-drained of its contents. It isn't his first drink and it won't be his last either, even if he has had a little less cause to drink himself to forgetting his existence as of late. It's hard to kick old habits.

When Kyna steps into the bar and settles into a seat near his, it's definitely the smell of fake cheese and grease that reaches his nostrils before he can register anything else. Perhaps this is some of what Andy was talking about, having 'terrible food' as part of her Farewell Tour.

He can recognize loss and sorrow when he sees it though, notes it in the most minute ways a person moves within the world because he'd experienced it all for himself, and for centuries. He sees it in Kyna now but doesn't think to speak of it. For one thing, they don't know each other, and for another it's not his place anyway.

He nods towards the fries instead. ] I didn't know poutine still exists.

[evocation]

[Kyna's seen Booker around and even served him a couple of times, but she doesn't know his name or... anything about him, really. It's a bit of a surprise when he speaks up, but she doesn't seem put off. Honestly, she needs a distraction, and shooting the shit with a near stranger is a perfect one.

She glances down at her fries, frowning thoughtfully.]

Does this count as poutine? I don't know. I'm from New York.

[livrer]

Truthfully, I don't know either; I've never had it. [ A quick shrug. ] I see fries and some sort of sauce over it and my mind thinks 'poutine'.

[ And it is terrible food, but Booker's tone is light at least. Only filled with the level of judginess that anyone with his accent might have. ]

It has never been all that common in France either.

[ Not until Paris opened its first poutinerie a few years (his time) back anyway. ]

[evocation]

Oooh, you're French.

[Kyna props her chin on her hand, peering at him more closely. This is exactly the sort of distraction she needs, but unfortunately for Booker, it means he's got her full attention.]

Where in France?

[ofmyth]

[ are you allowed to bring your own drinks into a bar? thor's doing it regardless. since coming out of the Aerie (and taking a week off to mope) thor's been taking advantage of the bees that have returned to the city by collecting honey and starting to brew his own mead

it's not good yet, too sweet and too sour in turns, but it's a work of his hands that has nothing to do with the lie that had been the aerie ]

Here. Drink this and tell me what you think of it.

[ he sets some glass bottles on the table between them. the fact of the matter is he's heard that sam is missing and has sought kyna out deliberately, to see how things are. hopefully the mead won't be too terrible and can help them on their way to drowning their sorrows in booze ]

[evocation]

[Kyna's certainly not going to kick Thor out for breaking the rules, and she works here, so that's official. She perks up a bit when she sees him, because honestly, being around him always puts her in a good mood.]

What is it?

[ofmyth]

Honeywine. Or Mead. Since the bees have returned, I'm keeping a hive and attempting to make it myself.

[ He sounds so proud of himself as he says it, pouring some out into glasses for them. ]

I make no promises about it's quality though. This is a skill that takes patience, which I'm often told I have little enough of.

terry

[dickism]

[Dick's been doing his best to keep his eye on everyone Batman adjacent, even if none of them are from his world. Terry is no exception, despite the reticence Dick senses from him. It's not that he's following anyone, but it's easier to keep track of the roof hoppers here when they're so few and far between.

So, when he runs into Terry on patrol one night, it isn't on purpose, although he does hop over to the roof Terry is on in that graceful, slightly obnoxious Dick Grayson way.]

Come here often?

[Ha ha.]

[schwayed]

[ it's not that terry doesn't like people, because he does. it's not even that terry doesn't necessarily like that household, because they all seem.. nice? but he doesn't know any of them, even if there's a version of dick in his world. this one and his are like night and day.

so he doesn't spend a lot of time there, or with any of them. they have, like, mutual history, and it's weird being dropped into the middle of that. it's nothing personal.

he's perched on the edge of a drop that would definitely kill him when dick finds him, legs dangling and dinner in his hands. he pauses as he spots the older man, sandwich like halfway to his mouth, and lowers it again as he waits. .. he certainly moves like dick, if nothing else. like dick's taught terry to move, and it's so fucking weird seeing it on this version of him. (at least, that's what he tells himself. not going to open that can of worms, thanks.) ]

Your pick-up lines could use some work, [ he quips back, and despite his hesitation, he jerks his chin to the spot next to him in invitation. ] It's weird having this many people running around on rooftops. [ at home, it's basically just him in gotham. ]

[dickism]

[Dick might not really know Terry, but he's hitting all the familiar boxes—moving up here like he was born to it, shooting back retorts like he's been planning them. It makes it easy for Dick to take the invitation, swing his legs over the edge, and grin.]

This feels like a ghost town to me. And if you've got notes on my pick-up lines, I'm all ears.

[schwayed]

It's just me in Neo Gotham most of the time. [ his dick doesn't do a lot of the active part of vigilantism anymore, given the physical trauma he lives with. terry worries sometimes, even knowing how tough dick is.

he gives him a sideglance as he finally bites into his sandwich, silent until he swallows. ]

I think you probably do okay without my advice.