So, I know everything's been more or less said and done about that flood, but honestly? I'm still just kind of shocked that for once, I was a kid and came out of it pretty trauma free. [Hell, even if he had actually been mentally fourteen again, things would have been fine. He might have had a weird childhood, but there were good parts of it, and fourteen had definitely been before shit had really hit the fan.

A pause, and then:]

[Somewhat reluctant generous Friends Filter. If you think you're on it, you are.]

Actually, as long as I'm being honest? It helped me realize some things.

I've realized I've spent most of my time here kind of terrified of what was waiting for me back home, and I won't lie, I'm still kind of scared about some of it. I know it all works out okay, now, but there's really no guarantee if I ever leave here I'll remember what I've been told here - [His money is going on that he won't remember, honestly, otherwise things would have gone veryyyy differently. :|] - And I've already lost two parents. I don't need to go through losing another, even if it's going to turn out he was fine. Just... time displaced, or something, so we all just thought he was dead for months.

[A pause. Because, really comic book logic?]

I'm still really not sure how that happened.

But it's going to happen whether or not I want it to, because as much as I might want to? I'm not drastically altering the futures of people I love who say they're happy with how everything worked out in the end, and sitting here pretending like it isn't going to happen is really ridiculous. And something about that flood made me realize maybe this really isn't so bad. There are a lot worse things that could have happened, and I can't hide here forever. And I don't want to anymore.

This isn't a I've had enough, I'm leaving announcement or anything. I've still got a lot of stuff I need to get done here before I seriously think about shipping out for good. But it's nice to not be afraid anymore. Or, to be afraid, but accept that and move forward instead of worrying about it, because everything is going to be okay.

... Kind of embarrassing that it took me a year to figure this out, but, I guess that's better than nothing.

[ooc: And again, comment over on DW here.]

Bruce is gone.

[ooc: Oh my god, I'm sorry for all the spam, guys. I didn't expect all this stuff to happen. Dick will be way quieter in coming days. <3]

I guess that could have been worse.

Anyone up for doing something?

[Private to Tim]

So now I have a stuffed elephant in my room.

[Private to Wally]

You seriously didn't know I was seven years younger then you?

[Private to Hayley]

I know this is going to sound weird, but thanks for lying about knowing my dad. Seriously. It was really nice to hear.

[Private to Mal]

[Dick was seriously considering just... pretending all that didn't happen. But. He was raised to be polite.]

I just wanted to say thanks again.

[Private to Bruce]

[The feed clicks on to this song playing with maybe some Dick is thoroughly amused by how clever he is chuckling in the background.]

[Dick has some slight bags under his eyes, but looks considerably less miserable then he did in his first post. He's sitting on the couch in his room, Costigan's wandering around in the general area of the kitchenette, and all in all, he's a little more Robin and a little less scared orphan.]

Tim and I wanted to know why we're in space, but we're not getting sucked out into it and can breathe and stuff when we're on deck. Does anyone know why?

Are we actually going anywhere, or are we just kind of... going until someone comes to take us back home?

[He looks off screen for a minute before sort of shyly saying to the off camera inmate:] Hey, Bill?

[He wants to ask how to leave messages for people specifically without telling the whole ship he'd been up all night crying about his parents, so after a beat turns back and switches the feed off.]

[Private to Mal, after filters are explained]

Thank you for coming over last night.

[Private to Tim; added after talking to Steph]

That girl, Steph, is looking for you. I don't know why, but she said she lost you.

[Spam for Costigan]

[Dick put the communicator down, fidgeting on the couch a little uncomfortably before looking back over at Costigan. He'd still been keeping an eye on him - a fact Dick really appreciated, considering how little attention he seemed to get back home - but the kid felt bad about totally losing it. He didn't know if Bruce had warned him about the nightmares or anything, although he assumed he knew what had happened to his parents.] I'm sorry I kept you up last night.

[Filtered away from Hoffman]

The hardest part of the job is always realizing that you can't prepare for everything. You can't be everywhere at once. And you can't always save the people you care about.

I'm not just talking about here, or about being a cop, but really, no matter what you do, if there's some level of danger posed to your or others, or even if there isn't, you're going to eventually have to face what it's like to lose someone you care about.

And you never feel more powerless then when someone you love gets caught in the crossfire of some psycho with a gun. Or a crowbar.

I've seen a lot of violence. And I've lost a lot of people. And it never gets any easier feeling like you failed, even when there's logically nothing you could have done to prevent what happened, because you cared and you should have been there for them. And honestly? I'm tired of it. I'm tired of seeing people I love die, or get ripped apart or tortured or crippled or blown up because something went wrong.

So when you can do something to help? When you can intervene and you can do some good and maybe save someone, even if you're putting your life on the line? You do it. It's never been complicated for me.

[Strikes readable by Bats minus Jason (sorry buddy :c). The whole post is public for maybe five minutes before he deletes it, but feel free to assume your character caught it before he did.]

[Private to Bruce]

Can we talk?

[Private to Tim]

How are you doing?

[Private to Costigan]

You want to go for a run or something? I promise I won't break anything or try to hold your hand.

[Dick is still sorting through all the stuff at his house. He's maybe starting to get a little obsessive about it, and probably would look a little crazy to anyone who wasn't from the Barge, as he's got clues to his fake life sprawled out around him on the floor. Not that you guys can see it, but to any passersby, he looks a little nuts. Or at least like he's getting started on spring cleaning a little early by ripping everything off the shelves.]

Anyone else have some pictures of people from back home around the house? Like, not Barge people? I'm trying to figure out how closely this place parallels our home universes, which obviously isn't all that much, but I'm still curious.

I mean, obviously we're all here, and some of us have pretty developed family units that aren't like our original ones at all, but what about the people we left back home? Do they exist here too, or is this place just populated with strangers and us?

[There's a specific reasoning behind this questioning, but most of you aren't getting any reasons as to why this is suddenly bothering him.]

[Private to Tim]

I found pictures of my parents.

[Private to Steph, added after talking to Roman]

Are you okay?

[ooc: Multiple spam threads are welcome if you're so inclined, Dick's just probably on the couch watching home movies or analyzing all the information he can find in the albums and papers around the house.]

[Dick still looks, as Costigan so eloquently put it, pretty beat to shit. Also, angry. Quite angry.]

Nice to know the track record of one horrible thing happening after another followed me here too.

[Private to Tim]

You saw.

[Private to Steph]

You okay?

Where are you?

[Private to Costigan]

... NEVERMIND