WHO: jason todd + various
WHERE: ~~everywhere~~
WHEN: August 9th-16th ish
WHAT: grungefest dates, disappointing siblings, ruining markus' life, etc etc
NOTES OR WARNINGS: booze, bad flirting / vague discussion of torture, murder, and child abuse in damian's thread
no subject
Try to do something good. [ he twists his fork in the air. there's a wry tone to his voice. ] And somehow—somehow—it always comes back. As someone who's former incarnations found their own accountability lacking, well, everything gets bigger the more shit happens.
[ it's easier to blame yourself, it's also easier to point the finger. he hasn't found a good in between on that one, yet. responsibility had never been his strong point, no matter how much he tries to get better. there are some things that still sit heavy with him.
then he pauses, and sighs like he's not good at this at all. ]
I suppose ... what I mean to say is ... [ the fork is held between his thumb and forefinger, and he lets it droop to either side like a teeter-tauter. Loki always looks like he knows what he's doing, always collected, but his expression relaxes a little bit. ] You gave someone a chance, even if it ended badly. Some of us need that. It must be worth something.
no subject
chews on it while he thinks what words to twist. sincerity has never been his strong suit, bringing any of this up was probably a mistake. loki knows a little too much for his taste, but jason can't help opening his mouth and spilling out more bullshit, anyway. it's too late to go back--and even if jason could, the shit that damian has spilled mixed with dick's identity and their whole brothers shit is enough. anyone could tear open the very thinly veiled mask over their identities, pull together who bruce wayne is if he shows up.
jason should care more, probably. but he's already fucking disappointed him enough for seven lifetimes, a little more can't hurt anyone. besides: loki already has his name. there's a loose, barely there smile on his lips when jason raises his (water) glass up, offers it over to loki. )
"Us", huh? To misfits and outlaws, I guess.
( may as well keep to his brand. )
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if he couldn't believe in the breath of possibility between his own failures, then he was lost. sometimes it felt like he was closer to his own framework of Loki, and other times it was just a sick dance toward the next disaster. King Loki had put a stake in the ground, and he couldn't turn to that pit that demanded his own existential demise. where Jason blamed himself, Loki blamed others, but this was neither. he could claim to know his former friends, but anyone with a shred of immortality chose a fate of their own design; taking the blame for that felt like discounting their own choices.
their situation was poor, even disregarding the crap from their own worlds: drugged and controlled, forced into a corner and then left here to be used. Loki hated all of it, but Jason made it more tolerable. (even right now when he's shoving pancakes into his loud mouth.) it's just like Verity made certain things better, like David had. maybe he'd burn the rest to the ground when he found out who did this.
ah, but for now.
a ghost of an ironic smile turns up at the corners of his mouth, dangerous like the edge of a knife. ]
...
To thieves and rebels. [ he holds up the fork to clink it against the cup. ] Shouldn't we follow that up with something else? Like "may the fires we light burn bright" or ... "may our explosions be large and gratifying" and blah blah blah?
[ what had he said to his former incarnation? he would rather die than not change. ]
no subject
God, Lo, you're-- ( something else is where he was going with that. maybe fucking amazing, but he stops mid-sentence. remembers who he's with, where they're at. what the hell he's supposed to be doing here. and it's not--quite right. there's something off, something he got bits and pieces of before. jason hasn't fucking laughed like this in. forever. but he does so freely here without restraint. without memories weighing down on him without things hurting so bad.
he's comfortable. too comfortable. getting too used to all of this when it's all going to come crashing down around him any moment. he'll fuck something up, again. do something truly fucking awful, again. destroy any chance at maintaining jack shit and when their goal is to get out of here anyway? god, what's the point of all this? of being friendly, of making faces and eyes at gods, getting along with the local vigilante crowd--
it's all fucking pointless. the fork gets set down on the table as he finishes what he has, purses lips before he's turning in to press a kiss against the curve of a cheekbone (there's something dark in there, a deep-seated fear. jason tries to hide it under the contentedness of before, but) with one hand raising to try and help loki turn in towards him more, fingers brushing through dark hair. )
Hate to eat and run, but I forgot 'bout something. I'll see you tonight?
no subject
Hm? [ the exchange is a surprise, and he gets a hint of dread that stirs something in him. it's a feeling that he's constantly dancing with, that pools at the base of his belly and tightens in his chest. Jason's spooked.
it passes, and Loki's fingers curl in his shirt as he examines his face. there's a lift of his brow and a little suspicous line of his mouth. ]
Don't worry, I'll have you make it up to me. [ perhaps he shouldn't let him go, but he's not Jason's keeper. there are not many mortal agents of chaos, but he knows well that Jason is a catalyst, and Jason is struggling with it. ]