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You know exactly who I'm the son of.
Now are you going to come quietly, or do I need the cuffs?
13 June 2022 @ 08:42 pm
07 March 2013 @ 02:10 pm
[Dick clicks on the audio feed and takes a second to consider what he actually wants to say, here.]
I've been on the Barge for two years, three months, and one day. [Not that he's been counting.] I've met a lot of interesting people, been really amazing places, died and got about a dozen alternate lifetimes jumbling around in my head, and honestly, despite all the annoying stuff we've got to put up with on a daily basis here, it's been worth it. I'm never going to regret taking the Admiral up on his offer, and I'm glad he thought to give it to me in the first place.
But this place isn't somewhere to make into a home, [And he can't help but think about Cissie, and how she'd said she'd tried to convince herself that it was until she finally realized she just couldn't do it anymore, and how Tim had said he could stay here forever coming up with things to make bargains for, and that just wasn't a way to live your life.] and I could stay here forever punishing myself for mistakes or regrets, but that's no way to live your life, and I'd rather go home and do good there while there's still some good left in me, rather than let this place pretty much keep trying to beat it out of me.
So, I'm going home. For good this time, at least for now. I guess I can't make any promises you won't be seeing me again in a couple months. [But he also can't make any promises that he will come back, and he doesn't want to do that to anyone.
And you can practically hear the self depreciating smile:] I was gonna say something like it's been fun or real or a pleasure, or something, but none of that really does it justice, does it?
( Private messages for Friends, Alex, Rorschach, Cass, Ivy, Kay, Oliver, and Bruce )
[ooc: And Dick will hang around for any spam people want to do, but then he's off for a much needed vacation... back to Gotham which is admittedly not a vacation at all but there you go.]
I've been on the Barge for two years, three months, and one day. [Not that he's been counting.] I've met a lot of interesting people, been really amazing places, died and got about a dozen alternate lifetimes jumbling around in my head, and honestly, despite all the annoying stuff we've got to put up with on a daily basis here, it's been worth it. I'm never going to regret taking the Admiral up on his offer, and I'm glad he thought to give it to me in the first place.
But this place isn't somewhere to make into a home, [And he can't help but think about Cissie, and how she'd said she'd tried to convince herself that it was until she finally realized she just couldn't do it anymore, and how Tim had said he could stay here forever coming up with things to make bargains for, and that just wasn't a way to live your life.] and I could stay here forever punishing myself for mistakes or regrets, but that's no way to live your life, and I'd rather go home and do good there while there's still some good left in me, rather than let this place pretty much keep trying to beat it out of me.
So, I'm going home. For good this time, at least for now. I guess I can't make any promises you won't be seeing me again in a couple months. [But he also can't make any promises that he will come back, and he doesn't want to do that to anyone.
And you can practically hear the self depreciating smile:] I was gonna say something like it's been fun or real or a pleasure, or something, but none of that really does it justice, does it?
( Private messages for Friends, Alex, Rorschach, Cass, Ivy, Kay, Oliver, and Bruce )
[ooc: And Dick will hang around for any spam people want to do, but then he's off for a much needed vacation... back to Gotham which is admittedly not a vacation at all but there you go.]
01 March 2013 @ 02:38 pm
[So Dick was in a coma for that whole fiasco, and he woke up to something awesome!
And by awesome I mean fucking terrible.
So he will be focusing on that and not where the hell he's been for the last week or so.]
Tim's gone.
[And that's all he has to say on the subject.]
And by awesome I mean fucking terrible.
So he will be focusing on that and not where the hell he's been for the last week or so.]
Tim's gone.
[And that's all he has to say on the subject.]
14 February 2013 @ 10:39 pm
 | [The feed clicks on to show a woman with orange skin, lots of red hair, and pupil-less green eyes, wearing not very comfortable looking purple armor, but she certainly pulls it off. Jinks is sitting next to her on Dick's couch, looking more or less content with his new friend, who scratches his ears distractedly before she says anything. She looks a little pensive, because she's been sort of turning this situation over in her mind for a while before saying anything about it or making a judgment.] I don't like prison ships, or prisons much in general, and I certainly know better than to trust someone who makes extraordinary promises unless I'm given good reason to. But, [And her expression softens, gets more fond.] Dick seems to think you're trying to do good work here, and it certainly sounds as if he's accomplished something incredible with the help of your "Admiral", so I wish you all well in what you hope to achieve. Redemption is, after all, a noble goal to reach for. [And with that more serious statement out of the way, she manages an actual smile.] My name is Koriand'r, but feel free to shorten it to Kory. It seems there are quite a few people I'm already acquainted with on board, but I'm pleased to meet the rest of you. [And the friendly smile gets a little more wry, because lol Dick are you turning into the male version of a crazy cat lady.] And I'd be very interested to know when, exactly, Dick decided to get a cat. |
12 February 2013 @ 03:20 pm
[Dick turns on the camera feed and smiles sort of sheepishly,]
So, I'm back. Checked on a few things at home, dropped in to say hi to some friends, Kirk says hi back. Doesn't sound like I missed anything too awful on this end.
[He hesitates, like he's considering just leaving it at that, because he's got a pretty good idea by now how some people take this sort of thing, but. Hey. Sometimes it's good, to remember it's actually worth it sometimes.]
I came here two years ago to save the lives of one hundred thousand and sixty eight people who were killed when a living chemical bomb was dropped on the city I'd spent years trying to protect. Part of the reason I went home was to make sure the Admiral followed through on our deal, because that's a pretty big thing to ask for, even for this place.
The city's still a radioactive wasteland, but everyone got out okay.
[One corner of his mouth ticks up in a small smile, almost embarrassed, or maybe just disbelieving, because he can still remember what it had been like, to watch it happen and run back to try and help, passing out in the wreckage of the city from the radiation, honestly not expecting anyone to get him out and maybe not even wanting them to.] You can tell me this place is awful and I'm crazy for being here all you want, but I don't care what crap the Admiral puts us through on a day to day basis. If this place helps one person - and it's done way more than that over the years - then it's worth it, and I'm not sorry I agreed to work here.
[Private to Tim]
Thanks for looking after Jinks for me.
[Private to Sara]
Hey.
So, I'm back. Checked on a few things at home, dropped in to say hi to some friends, Kirk says hi back. Doesn't sound like I missed anything too awful on this end.
[He hesitates, like he's considering just leaving it at that, because he's got a pretty good idea by now how some people take this sort of thing, but. Hey. Sometimes it's good, to remember it's actually worth it sometimes.]
I came here two years ago to save the lives of one hundred thousand and sixty eight people who were killed when a living chemical bomb was dropped on the city I'd spent years trying to protect. Part of the reason I went home was to make sure the Admiral followed through on our deal, because that's a pretty big thing to ask for, even for this place.
The city's still a radioactive wasteland, but everyone got out okay.
[One corner of his mouth ticks up in a small smile, almost embarrassed, or maybe just disbelieving, because he can still remember what it had been like, to watch it happen and run back to try and help, passing out in the wreckage of the city from the radiation, honestly not expecting anyone to get him out and maybe not even wanting them to.] You can tell me this place is awful and I'm crazy for being here all you want, but I don't care what crap the Admiral puts us through on a day to day basis. If this place helps one person - and it's done way more than that over the years - then it's worth it, and I'm not sorry I agreed to work here.
[Private to Tim]
Thanks for looking after Jinks for me.
[Private to Sara]
Hey.
04 February 2013 @ 04:05 pm
[Slightly Backdated Spam for Babs]
( Is it bright where you are? Have the people changed? )
[Public, Present Dated]
I'm going home for a couple days to make sure the Admiral actually followed through on our deal. I don't plan on being gone for too long, but we all know how reliable the Admiral is with this kind of thing, so. Hopefully I'll see you all again in about a week.
[Private to Rorschach]
I know this must seem kind of scary, to be in charge of someone else's well being and everything, but I wasn't kidding when I said I thought you'd be a good warden. I've got a lot of faith that you'll be able to help him, so try not to be too hard on yourself. [And don't fuck it up. :V]
I'll be back soon. I'm asking Tim to keep an eye on Jinks while I'm gone, but if you want to come over to raid the kitchen, try picking the lock instead of breaking down the door, unless you want to just ask the Admiral to fix it after you leave.
[Private to Tim]
Any chance you can check on Jinks for me while I'm gone? I'd bring him with me, but I'm not actually sure where I'm living right now and I don't know how Alfred would feel about needing to pick up after a cat while I apartment hunt.
[ooc: And Dick will be on hiatus checking in on everything back home until about the 11th or 12th! He's in his room if anyone wants to spam him.]
( Is it bright where you are? Have the people changed? )
[Public, Present Dated]
I'm going home for a couple days to make sure the Admiral actually followed through on our deal. I don't plan on being gone for too long, but we all know how reliable the Admiral is with this kind of thing, so. Hopefully I'll see you all again in about a week.
[Private to Rorschach]
I know this must seem kind of scary, to be in charge of someone else's well being and everything, but I wasn't kidding when I said I thought you'd be a good warden. I've got a lot of faith that you'll be able to help him, so try not to be too hard on yourself. [And don't fuck it up. :V]
I'll be back soon. I'm asking Tim to keep an eye on Jinks while I'm gone, but if you want to come over to raid the kitchen, try picking the lock instead of breaking down the door, unless you want to just ask the Admiral to fix it after you leave.
[Private to Tim]
Any chance you can check on Jinks for me while I'm gone? I'd bring him with me, but I'm not actually sure where I'm living right now and I don't know how Alfred would feel about needing to pick up after a cat while I apartment hunt.
[ooc: And Dick will be on hiatus checking in on everything back home until about the 11th or 12th! He's in his room if anyone wants to spam him.]
27 January 2013 @ 11:25 pm
So, in lighter news, Rorschach's graduated. I would have made an announcement earlier, but I was a little held up. [Completely freaking out and hallucinating. :V
He continues, trying to be a little teasing, because he's actually super proud of him and doesn't want this to turn into some kind of horrible ASKJFG RICHARD WHY >C thing.]
I'd say everyone should tell him congratulations, but I'm pretty sure that would just embarrass him.
[Warden Filter]
Who's investigating what happened?
[Filtered to Tim, Steph and Babs]
Are you guys okay?
[Private to Bruce]
[Dick hesitates for a few seconds before speaking, because lol. lol.]
... I need to ask a favor.
He continues, trying to be a little teasing, because he's actually super proud of him and doesn't want this to turn into some kind of horrible ASKJFG RICHARD WHY >C thing.]
I'd say everyone should tell him congratulations, but I'm pretty sure that would just embarrass him.
[Warden Filter]
Who's investigating what happened?
[Filtered to Tim, Steph and Babs]
Are you guys okay?
[Private to Bruce]
[Dick hesitates for a few seconds before speaking, because lol. lol.]
... I need to ask a favor.
18 January 2013 @ 03:28 pm
[The feed clicks on to reveal an unfamiliar person - a dark haired man in a suit who smiles at the camera in a friendly way.]
Good afternoon. I'm Special Agent Richard Grayson, [And he's holding up his badge as proof that this isn't some scam.] and my partner - Special Agent Pezzini - and I are looking for someone. He's got brown hair, stands about six foot even high, weighs about two hundred or so pounds and goes by the name Mark Cross.
If anyone's got any information about him, or anything else suspicious going on around here, [Murders, communists, pyramid schemes, aliens.] we'd greatly appreciate any and all cooperation from anyone with more something to say. Thanks for your time.
[ooc: Dick and Sara are basically 60's Mulder and Scully (although for lolz Dick is going to be more like Simpsons Mulder) and will be stumbling upon the true nature of Bargewell, thus prompting Dick to very maturely be like I TOLD YOU SO. Replies will be coming in from![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
anightowl.]
Good afternoon. I'm Special Agent Richard Grayson, [And he's holding up his badge as proof that this isn't some scam.] and my partner - Special Agent Pezzini - and I are looking for someone. He's got brown hair, stands about six foot even high, weighs about two hundred or so pounds and goes by the name Mark Cross.
If anyone's got any information about him, or anything else suspicious going on around here, [Murders, communists, pyramid schemes, aliens.] we'd greatly appreciate any and all cooperation from anyone with more something to say. Thanks for your time.
[ooc: Dick and Sara are basically 60's Mulder and Scully (although for lolz Dick is going to be more like Simpsons Mulder) and will be stumbling upon the true nature of Bargewell, thus prompting Dick to very maturely be like I TOLD YOU SO. Replies will be coming in from
anightowl.]30 December 2012 @ 02:41 pm
[This whole post is backdated to after Slade's arrival post and this fight.]
Just a note for anyone who's missed this memo: people have contacted the Admiral about what happens to people who disappear before. He's said he doesn't control when they vanish any more than we do. I know we don't really have reason to trust his word on stuff like this, but I figured it's something worth hearing.
There have been plenty of tough cases who have graduated and a lot of crappy wardens who have overstayed their welcome, and the Admiral didn't get rid of them. It'd save a lot of time and energy if people could keep that in mind next time anyone starts making accusations that someone got kicked off because the Admiral gave up on them, or thinks they've been doing a lousy job.
[Filtered to the DC Wardens]
Slade's here. He was here before until about a year ago, and he was actually making progress by the time he got booted off the ship. [Sort of. He thinks. Maybe.
It's complicated.]
Try not to piss him off if you don't have to.
[Spam for Dean, after the fight]
[Dick wasn't overly pleased with how this had gone down. Bruce acting like a jackass wasn't anything new or unexpected, in so many ways, and he was an inmate. This sort of behavior was to be expected.
But Dean and Faith were wardens, and it always, always bothered Dick when confrontations between wardens turned into what was basically a playground brawl. They were supposed to be the role models here, and he got that both of them were upset, but calling names and intentionally looking to piss the other off was ridiculous. He might side more with Dean because he was his friend, and he didn't particularly like Faith, but they were both definitely in the wrong here.
He turned to Dean after the other two had left, expression and voice still level and serious rather than angry, and gestured for the other man to show him his injured arm.]
Let me see.
Just a note for anyone who's missed this memo: people have contacted the Admiral about what happens to people who disappear before. He's said he doesn't control when they vanish any more than we do. I know we don't really have reason to trust his word on stuff like this, but I figured it's something worth hearing.
There have been plenty of tough cases who have graduated and a lot of crappy wardens who have overstayed their welcome, and the Admiral didn't get rid of them. It'd save a lot of time and energy if people could keep that in mind next time anyone starts making accusations that someone got kicked off because the Admiral gave up on them, or thinks they've been doing a lousy job.
[Filtered to the DC Wardens]
Slade's here. He was here before until about a year ago, and he was actually making progress by the time he got booted off the ship. [Sort of. He thinks. Maybe.
It's complicated.]
Try not to piss him off if you don't have to.
[Spam for Dean, after the fight]
[Dick wasn't overly pleased with how this had gone down. Bruce acting like a jackass wasn't anything new or unexpected, in so many ways, and he was an inmate. This sort of behavior was to be expected.
But Dean and Faith were wardens, and it always, always bothered Dick when confrontations between wardens turned into what was basically a playground brawl. They were supposed to be the role models here, and he got that both of them were upset, but calling names and intentionally looking to piss the other off was ridiculous. He might side more with Dean because he was his friend, and he didn't particularly like Faith, but they were both definitely in the wrong here.
He turned to Dean after the other two had left, expression and voice still level and serious rather than angry, and gestured for the other man to show him his injured arm.]
Let me see.
23 December 2012 @ 11:47 pm
[Private to the Admiral]
( Gift list for Sara, Dean, Rorschach, Cass, Steph, Babs, Kon, Ivy, Zev, Clark, Tony, Steve, Leslie, Iris and Bruce. )
[ooc: Pretend this was before port ended. /o\]
( Gift list for Sara, Dean, Rorschach, Cass, Steph, Babs, Kon, Ivy, Zev, Clark, Tony, Steve, Leslie, Iris and Bruce. )
[ooc: Pretend this was before port ended. /o\]
08 November 2012 @ 04:22 pm
[Dick's been around for a couple of these disturbances by now, and while he knows it's kind of a mixed bag when you put yourself out here like this for anyone to get a look at, there's really only one person he wants to talk to, and for the first time since Bruce showed up, Dick actually looks happy in a network post.
Really, this should probably be private, but the network connections are unstable enough without hoping filters would work, so he'll take the risk.]
Jim, I know you're around. You better not be avoiding me.
Really, this should probably be private, but the network connections are unstable enough without hoping filters would work, so he'll take the risk.]
Jim, I know you're around. You better not be avoiding me.
31 October 2012 @ 02:34 am
[Warden Filter, backdated to the end of this thread.]
Bruce Wayne has been brought down to Level Zero after trying to attack and kill Poison Ivy. He'll be down there for the full week.
If anyone has any reason to believe anyone else has been threatened or caught his attention for whatever reason, I'd appreciate hearing about it sooner rather than later.
Bruce Wayne has been brought down to Level Zero after trying to attack and kill Poison Ivy. He'll be down there for the full week.
If anyone has any reason to believe anyone else has been threatened or caught his attention for whatever reason, I'd appreciate hearing about it sooner rather than later.
25 October 2012 @ 02:14 pm
[Warden Filter]
[Dick's gone back and forth on saying something public about this, because while he's still kind of freaking out about this and knows this isn't his Bruce, he still feels weird basically siding with the other wardens/the good of the Barge instead of him. This wasn't exactly the father/son reunion he was expecting. :c] That isn't the Bruce Wayne from our world. If he says anything to anyone that gives you reason to be concerned, I want to know about it immediately.
[This is legitimate, okay, he's already talking about staging an escape attempt. B(]
[Filtered to the DC Cast]
I need you to tell me everything he told you. [This is an order, not a suggestion. :|]
[Private to Dean]
...
[Private to Sara]
...
[He was going to message you both, but he really doesn't know what he wants to say, and there's a pressing issue he needs to deal with right now.]
[Spam for Tim]
[Dick isn't honestly sure how he's processing all of this. He's angry, he's frustrated, he feels like he's running on adrenaline but doesn't have anything to do with it, which means he's been pacing and kind of shaky the entire time he's been talking to Bruce. It's stupid, he knows it's stupid to get this worked up over the Barge throwing something like this at him, and really, with all the different realities out there, he probably should have been anticipating it. But that doesn't make it any easier to deal with, and it doesn't change the fact that he's seen what that kind of psychotic break does to someone like them, and he's never really actually... dealt with the fact that he'd been killed by someone with a pretty similar mindset.
At least this time, the crazy murderous Batman apparently wasn't planning on holding a gun on him any time soon.
Which is actually the more pressing issue he needs to deal with right now, so, message composed and posted, Dick tosses his comm down and head out of his room down the hallway and knocks at Tim's door impatiently.]
It's me.
[Dick's gone back and forth on saying something public about this, because while he's still kind of freaking out about this and knows this isn't his Bruce, he still feels weird basically siding with the other wardens/the good of the Barge instead of him. This wasn't exactly the father/son reunion he was expecting. :c] That isn't the Bruce Wayne from our world. If he says anything to anyone that gives you reason to be concerned, I want to know about it immediately.
[This is legitimate, okay, he's already talking about staging an escape attempt. B(]
[Filtered to the DC Cast]
I need you to tell me everything he told you. [This is an order, not a suggestion. :|]
...
[Private to Sara]
...
[He was going to message you both, but he really doesn't know what he wants to say, and there's a pressing issue he needs to deal with right now.]
[Spam for Tim]
[Dick isn't honestly sure how he's processing all of this. He's angry, he's frustrated, he feels like he's running on adrenaline but doesn't have anything to do with it, which means he's been pacing and kind of shaky the entire time he's been talking to Bruce. It's stupid, he knows it's stupid to get this worked up over the Barge throwing something like this at him, and really, with all the different realities out there, he probably should have been anticipating it. But that doesn't make it any easier to deal with, and it doesn't change the fact that he's seen what that kind of psychotic break does to someone like them, and he's never really actually... dealt with the fact that he'd been killed by someone with a pretty similar mindset.
At least this time, the crazy murderous Batman apparently wasn't planning on holding a gun on him any time soon.
Which is actually the more pressing issue he needs to deal with right now, so, message composed and posted, Dick tosses his comm down and head out of his room down the hallway and knocks at Tim's door impatiently.]
It's me.
23 October 2012 @ 04:21 pm
| So I figure by now, everyone's calmed down and realized we're not in any imminent danger here, so I have a question. Does anyone else - of the kids on board, I mean - remember this place at all? I feel like I've been here before, but a long time ago, or like I had a dream about it or something. It wasn't all decked out for Halloween last time, though. I'm not sure if I should be weirded out by it or not. Halloween in Gotham's usually a fiasco. [Private to Tim] Do you need help dealing with anyone? [He saw you talking to that very angry scary girl and vaguely remembers you/has a sense you're to be trusted, so. B(] Also, I could maybe stand to borrow a sweatshirt or something, if you don't mind. Everything in my room's like, six sizes too big. [ooc: Tags will be coming from theboywonder!] |
11 October 2012 @ 05:05 pm
[The audio clicks on first, and there's a grumbled swear before something strikes the communicator once and gets the video going. There's a lovely shot of the ceiling of Dick's apartment before a Steller's Jay pokes his head into view.]
Not that I'm necessarily complaining about being able to fly again, but it sort of feels like we just did this one. [And as fun as it was for the first couple hours last time, he's a little bummed he's missing things like fingers and a normal mouth.]
I guess most of the people who were here then are gone, now, but I still figured I'd turn into a pirate again before I went back to being a bird. Is anyone who was around for the last one a different animal?
[Spam for the Hallways]
[... Alright, when he said he was a little bummed about getting stuck like this again, it is pretty cool to be able to actually fly. So while he's not zipping around the hallways and preforming arcobatics or anything, he's still out and about keeping tabs on everyone else, and making sure there wasn't going to be a repeat performance of one of the big predators trying to eat him.
Which, admittedly, there was less of a chance of, what with Slade being gone, but still. It never hurt to beextremely overprepared.]
[ooc: Dick can communicate with anyone, and feel free to start multiple threads in the spam, I don't have any definitive timeline plans or anything. c: Steller's Jays are about a foot tall, for size reference.]
Not that I'm necessarily complaining about being able to fly again, but it sort of feels like we just did this one. [And as fun as it was for the first couple hours last time, he's a little bummed he's missing things like fingers and a normal mouth.]
I guess most of the people who were here then are gone, now, but I still figured I'd turn into a pirate again before I went back to being a bird. Is anyone who was around for the last one a different animal?
[Spam for the Hallways]
[... Alright, when he said he was a little bummed about getting stuck like this again, it is pretty cool to be able to actually fly. So while he's not zipping around the hallways and preforming arcobatics or anything, he's still out and about keeping tabs on everyone else, and making sure there wasn't going to be a repeat performance of one of the big predators trying to eat him.
Which, admittedly, there was less of a chance of, what with Slade being gone, but still. It never hurt to be
[ooc: Dick can communicate with anyone, and feel free to start multiple threads in the spam, I don't have any definitive timeline plans or anything. c: Steller's Jays are about a foot tall, for size reference.]
29 September 2012 @ 02:59 pm
[Spam for Sara, backdated to after this log.]
[After dragging himself to the infirmary and getting patched up, Dick had been pretty insistent that he just wanted to go back to his room and sleep it off there rather than being held hostage in the infirmary. So, with doctor's approval, he limped down the hall and, instead of taking the stairs up to the first floor, went right to Sara's room and knocked on the door, too tired to care if anyone else was walking through the hall and wondering why the hell he was wearing blue hospital scrubs with a Batman uniform mostly tucked under one arm, the cape trailing on the floor, and looking like he'd had the crap beaten out of him.
He was holding the boots and cowl in his good hand - the other was in a cast that hopefully wouldn't have to be on too long between magic and the tech they had on board - and after he'd knocked, he carefully moved to prop himself up against the wall to hopefully prevent falling on his ass. Getting up again from that really just sounded awful.]
[Private to Tim]
I just got my ass handed to me by Superboy, so I'm going to be passed out at Sara's for a while. But if you need me for anything, give me a ring.
[Private to Rorschach]
I'm going to be sleeping off a broken wrist and some busted ribs for the next ten or so hours, so feel free to ask Tim if you need anything in the mean time.
[Private to Cass]
[After they've both had some time to recuperate, Dick is realizing they probably need to have a discussion about the whole "Why I was wearing Dad's pajamas" thing.]
We should talk.
[Private to Babs]
I'm guessing you got an update on what happened.
[Spam for Erik]
[Most people would probably think he was a complete idiot for not kicking back and taking it easy after almost getting killed by an out of control alien, but Dick didn't really do downtime and usually started getting a little stir crazy after he'd gotten over the initial period of I just want to sleep for a week and pretend I never have to get out of bed again.
Which was why the day after it had happened, he was up and about as usual, and currently mentally swearing a little over having to balance his lunch tray with one hand. The other was in a cast in a sling to help keep it out of the way, and his ribs still hurt like hell, but it could have gone a lot worse, really, so he pushed aside the discomfort and looked around for somewhere to sit.
He spotted Erik by himself, and - potentially against his better judgment, because it wasn't like you could really just walk up to someone and ask how they were doing because their breach counterpart had really reminded you of your old inmate - he headed over to him and gestured at the seat across from him. Or, you know, as best he could while holding a lunch tray in one arm with his other in a sling.]
Do you mind if I sit here?
[After dragging himself to the infirmary and getting patched up, Dick had been pretty insistent that he just wanted to go back to his room and sleep it off there rather than being held hostage in the infirmary. So, with doctor's approval, he limped down the hall and, instead of taking the stairs up to the first floor, went right to Sara's room and knocked on the door, too tired to care if anyone else was walking through the hall and wondering why the hell he was wearing blue hospital scrubs with a Batman uniform mostly tucked under one arm, the cape trailing on the floor, and looking like he'd had the crap beaten out of him.
He was holding the boots and cowl in his good hand - the other was in a cast that hopefully wouldn't have to be on too long between magic and the tech they had on board - and after he'd knocked, he carefully moved to prop himself up against the wall to hopefully prevent falling on his ass. Getting up again from that really just sounded awful.]
[Private to Tim]
I just got my ass handed to me by Superboy, so I'm going to be passed out at Sara's for a while. But if you need me for anything, give me a ring.
[Private to Rorschach]
I'm going to be sleeping off a broken wrist and some busted ribs for the next ten or so hours, so feel free to ask Tim if you need anything in the mean time.
[Private to Cass]
[After they've both had some time to recuperate, Dick is realizing they probably need to have a discussion about the whole "Why I was wearing Dad's pajamas" thing.]
We should talk.
[Private to Babs]
I'm guessing you got an update on what happened.
[Spam for Erik]
[Most people would probably think he was a complete idiot for not kicking back and taking it easy after almost getting killed by an out of control alien, but Dick didn't really do downtime and usually started getting a little stir crazy after he'd gotten over the initial period of I just want to sleep for a week and pretend I never have to get out of bed again.
Which was why the day after it had happened, he was up and about as usual, and currently mentally swearing a little over having to balance his lunch tray with one hand. The other was in a cast in a sling to help keep it out of the way, and his ribs still hurt like hell, but it could have gone a lot worse, really, so he pushed aside the discomfort and looked around for somewhere to sit.
He spotted Erik by himself, and - potentially against his better judgment, because it wasn't like you could really just walk up to someone and ask how they were doing because their breach counterpart had really reminded you of your old inmate - he headed over to him and gestured at the seat across from him. Or, you know, as best he could while holding a lunch tray in one arm with his other in a sling.]
Do you mind if I sit here?
25 September 2012 @ 11:52 pm
[Dick doesn't really want to talk about the breach. He's been through enough of them already that being a semi trigger happy fed with a taste for justice isn't that weird, even if it's always unsettling to have all the extra memories floating around in your head.
The more pressing matter right now is:]
Has anyone seen Sara since the breach ended?
[Private to Rorschach]
We should talk. [It's a conversation they probably should have had a long time ago, but. Better late than never?]
[ooc: I promise I'm getting to my backtags/new posts I should tag into, I just wanted to put this up before time got too far away from me. <3]
The more pressing matter right now is:]
Has anyone seen Sara since the breach ended?
[Private to Rorschach]
We should talk. [It's a conversation they probably should have had a long time ago, but. Better late than never?]
[ooc: I promise I'm getting to my backtags/new posts I should tag into, I just wanted to put this up before time got too far away from me. <3]
23 September 2012 @ 12:12 pm
[Spam for Clint]
[Barton. Barton was the leak in the department. It took everything he had not to just march over to his apartment right after talking with Lensherr and drag him down to the office himself, because he was angry. Really, really damn angry, because he didn't care if Clint was worried about his reputation being sullied. He'd sold the mob information, and two agents were dead. There was a chance - a slim one, but still a chance - that their deaths had nothing to do with what Barton had given them, but until he had proof otherwise, he was going after a guy who'd caused the death of two agents and God knows who else.
He wasn't at the office, surprise surprise. Admittedly, no one else was either, it was too early in the morning for most of the other agents to even consider coming in, and he knew he should probably leave a note or something at least to one of the other agents, but he wanted to do this himself. He'd never been great being a team player when it came down to it, and this was no exception.
Besides, he was less likely to run if it was just his partner approaching him, versus an entire pack of feds.
He finally ran into him downtown, and went to pull him aside, starting to head away through the small crowds that had started to gather so they could go somewhere quiet to talk.]
We need to talk.
[Private to Narvin, dated to after the Spam]
I found your fucking rat.
[Barton. Barton was the leak in the department. It took everything he had not to just march over to his apartment right after talking with Lensherr and drag him down to the office himself, because he was angry. Really, really damn angry, because he didn't care if Clint was worried about his reputation being sullied. He'd sold the mob information, and two agents were dead. There was a chance - a slim one, but still a chance - that their deaths had nothing to do with what Barton had given them, but until he had proof otherwise, he was going after a guy who'd caused the death of two agents and God knows who else.
He wasn't at the office, surprise surprise. Admittedly, no one else was either, it was too early in the morning for most of the other agents to even consider coming in, and he knew he should probably leave a note or something at least to one of the other agents, but he wanted to do this himself. He'd never been great being a team player when it came down to it, and this was no exception.
Besides, he was less likely to run if it was just his partner approaching him, versus an entire pack of feds.
He finally ran into him downtown, and went to pull him aside, starting to head away through the small crowds that had started to gather so they could go somewhere quiet to talk.]
We need to talk.
[Private to Narvin, dated to after the Spam]
I found your fucking rat.
27 August 2012 @ 11:34 pm
[Open Spam for the Hallways, Backdated to before the flood ended]
[As messed up as it was, Dick was actually really enjoying this flood. You could spend as much time as you wanted in the gym here, and it still wasn't quite the same as actively running a gauntlet where you risked serious injury and/or death if you weren't fast enough, and he'd run the sims in his danger room facility enough that it wasn't really a challenge anymore.
This was different, and he really needed the distraction for the time being, so instead of staying put and waiting the flood out in his room, he'd been roaming the hallways aimlessly, dodging darts and spears and moving floor tiles and sudden narrow, practically invisible bridges stretched across sudden vast gaps in the floor. It wasn't exactly normal, but it was something he could do to keep his mind active and not wallow, and it never hurt to brush up on how to not get yourself killed.
At the moment, the hallway he was walking down seemed more or less normal (for the flood, anyway), with well worn bricks that looked vaguely Egyptian, maybe, or at least something that seemed at home in the desert lining the walls and floor. It was dark, and he'd reached into his jacket pocket for a mag light, carefully sweeping the light methodically over the corridor, checking for any traps. There were markings on the floor, and he crouched down to look at them, carefully tracing a finger over one of the characters. Definitely not Egyptian, then. Nothing he recognized, actually, which meant maybe this was some kind of space Egyptians or from another culture or something else entirely, and it was those thoughts that distracted him a little bit as he stood up and carefully continued his way down the hallway.
... Only to have the floor drop out from underneath him. He dropped the flashlight with a surprised shout, and it rolled down the hall and bounced off a corner of brick, illuminating the opposite wall. Dick caught himself before he actually fell, whacking his chin on the floor and grunting a little as he tried to reorient himself. He could pull himself up pretty easily, but he wasn't sure if the rest of the floor was booby trapped or not, and with footsteps coming down around the corner, and a shadow suddenly appearing on the wall the flashlight was lighting up, he figured a head's up to whoever was coming was probably necessary.]
The floor's a little unstable over here. Just a friendly tip.
[ooc: Multiples welcome! I'm assuming this is after Kirk and Shego have left timeline wise but am otherwise very flexible. c:]
[As messed up as it was, Dick was actually really enjoying this flood. You could spend as much time as you wanted in the gym here, and it still wasn't quite the same as actively running a gauntlet where you risked serious injury and/or death if you weren't fast enough, and he'd run the sims in his danger room facility enough that it wasn't really a challenge anymore.
This was different, and he really needed the distraction for the time being, so instead of staying put and waiting the flood out in his room, he'd been roaming the hallways aimlessly, dodging darts and spears and moving floor tiles and sudden narrow, practically invisible bridges stretched across sudden vast gaps in the floor. It wasn't exactly normal, but it was something he could do to keep his mind active and not wallow, and it never hurt to brush up on how to not get yourself killed.
At the moment, the hallway he was walking down seemed more or less normal (for the flood, anyway), with well worn bricks that looked vaguely Egyptian, maybe, or at least something that seemed at home in the desert lining the walls and floor. It was dark, and he'd reached into his jacket pocket for a mag light, carefully sweeping the light methodically over the corridor, checking for any traps. There were markings on the floor, and he crouched down to look at them, carefully tracing a finger over one of the characters. Definitely not Egyptian, then. Nothing he recognized, actually, which meant maybe this was some kind of space Egyptians or from another culture or something else entirely, and it was those thoughts that distracted him a little bit as he stood up and carefully continued his way down the hallway.
... Only to have the floor drop out from underneath him. He dropped the flashlight with a surprised shout, and it rolled down the hall and bounced off a corner of brick, illuminating the opposite wall. Dick caught himself before he actually fell, whacking his chin on the floor and grunting a little as he tried to reorient himself. He could pull himself up pretty easily, but he wasn't sure if the rest of the floor was booby trapped or not, and with footsteps coming down around the corner, and a shadow suddenly appearing on the wall the flashlight was lighting up, he figured a head's up to whoever was coming was probably necessary.]
The floor's a little unstable over here. Just a friendly tip.
[ooc: Multiples welcome! I'm assuming this is after Kirk and Shego have left timeline wise but am otherwise very flexible. c:]