{ That's probably a good angle for you to start at; given the idea and the background mutltiversallty. I don't think anyone else will have thought of it.
R.B.'s another semi-familiar from an unfamiliar world, too. His name is Kirk Langstrom, and he seems to be his world's Batman.
When you've got time later, I'll run you through the specs on his file, his Superman's, and their base. }
[ Of course, Barbara has wormed her way into the Tower of Justice's whole system. All it took was Bruce deciding to make one stupid move, and all hers became twice as long a game. ]
[Barbar- uh-- Batgirl wouldn't volunteer herself to anyone she didn't deem worthy, much less would she volunteer information if there was an inkling of suspicion but... Tim can say it. He doesn't care.
He's paranoid.
Maybe.
Sue him.]
What do I need to know about them? And how are we keeping Tim Drake a stranger from Batgirl?
[She could have roped him in without mentioning teammates. Unless...]
[ She hadn't quite meant that as an alterior motive, But there it comes up suddenly.
As though just reaching out to Tim at home. ]
{ Talis is less complicated than Talis' people are. They can get deeply territorial, and there wasn't almost an explosive dust-up between them and the original older version of Damian last year. Literally. They are deeply divided, but if one of them is endangered, they all come out as a single force.
Sound like anyone else we know? }
[ Is she avoiding that other one just for the breath of five more seconds? Maybe. But she's already balancing at least two possibilities for it, too. ]
Is this entanglement really what they need, though? To keep the mission objective at the forefront, not the backburner while territoriality squabbles for its share of undivided attention (or else, apparently, a Robin would go boom).
Is there even a choice?]
It sounds like keeping to strict business is the way to go.
[Which brings him to,] That'll be a lot on Tim Drake's hands. It could [it will] get messy.
There's a sigh out of her nose. Five seconds is only what it is. ]
{ I won't push for the other option. } [ Not yet at least. She can't quite make her mind believe she means at all. It's a snarled up tangle pulling back from the assumption she hadn't meant in the first place, the faux pax she hasn't made with anyone in their family from another world since the second Dick.
She doesn't know if what she wants to do is push. Or it's that she wants to push for the why, but that's definitely not the kind of thing she'd press over the comms here or at home. Some things deserve a more human touch. Real faces. Real voices. Of course, she wants to know. Of course, it grates. Of course, it turns into links in a too-long chain. But. Even more. It's a worry beyond Oracle and this mission. It's a thing bigger than his place, even if it's buried deeper. Especially in the silence of the wire. ]
{ Most of us have two different comms here for both faces hitting the network, too. But if you want to work with one—we'll figure that out, too. }
[Two (or more) comm links per face, versus two (or more) faces per comm.
Here Tim had thought (and hadn't bothered to clarify) that there was some way to hack the things. He'd figured he was maybe a touch too rusty to find out how.
He's not sure he knows how to feel about all of that trust in an already crooked A.I.
But fuck it, maybe he's gone and turned into a straight-up luddite. (Gross, no.)]
I know we're amassing points on this game show but I don't think I'll be spending mine on anything but the grand prize.
[Meaning,] who do you know that won't mind a comm from their stash missing?
And that one's... probably more fair than it's not, but that's a discussion for later too. ]
It is big, but there's also a lot of empty space. It's kinda eerie in places, honestly.
As far as food there's a diner in Charronway that serves breakfast all day, I'm also a fan of the burger place close to the manor if you're in more of a lunch mood. Otherwise there's a mall that's got a bunch of different options too.
He needs the other ten to... to smooth the legs of his jeans for the Nth time, the material still feeling utterly alien; because cotton kills. Like the pullover hoodie (dark red- of course), the fit is loose enough to hide in. Not loose enough to fall off of him. Of course. The fit is small. (Tim is small. He never thought about it much. In the grand scheme of things, what was one skipped meal a day? Two? One sickness, another acid-bite of an empty stomach. Burning, weakness, fevers, hunger. What did those things mean to Tim anymore? Tim is small. He never thought about it much. But now that he's 7 minutes out from seeing his brother, Tim thinks-- maybe he should have thought about just how small he was getting. Not for his own sake, but because he so desperately both needs to see his brother and needs to not be seen. It's troublesome.)
Tim's hair is still shaggy(er) than he'd like it- he could pull it up. But there's a stubborn insistence that he'll look all the way presentable again, someday. Soon. (At least he's clean shaven.)
He's three minutes out and he thinks about, like, a world without Dick Grayson.
He's 5 minutes out (he's 2 minutes late) and you know, it's downright eerie to see familiar buildings in this artificial city. Tim keeps his hands in his pockets and marches on.
There's a burger place close to the Manor. Tim smells the joint before he sees it; his stomach lurches, he hears it growl and he wonders if the thought of a burger is appetizing or off-putting.
So.
That's how he greets-- Dick. Trying his damnedest to distract himself with guessing the appropriate biological responses to bacon cheeseburgers, with a slow (and slowing) gait, hands held stubbornly inside the hoodie pocket and ohmygod if he doesn't swallow that lump in his throat he's going to choke and] --- [that's not embarrassing or anything but] --uh.
[A world without Dick Grayson.
Not Etraya. Not here.
(His pack!)
What shame? Tim launches himself at his brother his brother this is his brother-!] Dick you have no idea-! [ok maybe there's a little shame; not easing on the embrace, Tim makes to hide his face. Oh my god.
hi.]
no worries at all! I write some doozies myself on occasion
[ Yeah, Dick had some idea as to what to expect, given what he's been told from reliable sources, but none of that could have prepared him to take in the way his brother looks right now, standing in front of him, giving him a long look that speaks volumes about how much time has effectively passed since they last met. It's worlds of difference between the way he saw Tim last, which isn't to say that he looks terrible or anything it's just— he's rough around the edges in a way that's both new and familiar at the same time somehow. But before he has to think of what to say about it Tim's already wrapping his arms in for a tight hug, and that takes priority over talking anyway.
Dick gives him a tight squeeze right back, because whatever Tim's had to go through, potentially on his own, he's sorry he wasn't there, even if there's no way he could have been, and he's here now.
He'll give it a minute, or more, before he tries to ruffle Tim's hair. ]
Hey.
[ Dick worries about all of them, all the time, whether or not he says so. And frankly he doesn't say so often enough, he thinks, not since he moved away from Gotham and didn't get to talk to them nearly as much. Of course then there's this place, and he's been closer to some of them, which... has been a good thing, if tough to get through some days, especially when they're thrown into the tougher missions. ]
I don't, I know. [ In answer to the statement that Tim gave up on halfway through. ] But you can tell me all about it, if you want to.
action bc damian has no respect for personal space.
not all that long after arriving, which was surprising enough as it was. talking about their feelings is hardly something he and damian are known to practice together, nor is it anything damian would have chosen to converse about had he the option. but he hadn't: drake opened his mouth, went on about the dog that had been damian's somewhere else and then had been left in his care and going on about is laelaps an okay name despite the fact it was not damian's wolfdog to have an opinion about.
and yet here they are -
damian, just outside the door of drake's chosen room, leash in hand with laelaps shoving her nose under it. he doesn't knock, no, that would be too polite - instead, damian raises a booted foot and kicks the toe box against the bottom of the door frame, hard. )
[The apartment itself isn't ground floor, but Tim kicks himself for claiming it anyway. The traffic is something he very foolishly had forgotten all about and now: this.
It sounds like someone is trying to kick in his door when all Tim had wanted was to keep writing his notes, hunched over a low coffee table and Etraya's public network forum on display. He growls, train of thought successfully derailed.
--someone is trying to kick in his door.
Tim is scowling, opening the door and his mouth
and then he's not.]
Lily?
[A wolfdog. Golden eyes. Small framed. Off white, gray tufts of fur over her shoulder and hips and Tim's frozen with the door open only halfway because he doesn't know what] Where'd you find her? [The words are rough; Tim's mouth hot and dry. His eyes are, shockingly, dry too. Tim turns them to-] Damian? [He doesn't know what to call the boy, so the name is soundless. The fear isn't.
A boy and his dog, on his doorstep. A boy and his dog. A boy and his dog.
( if timothy thought a door would be able to keep him safe, then he should have chosen somewhere less obvious to stay behind one.
the scowl doesn't last very long, something more akin to shock taking over quickly and for a brief moment, damian considers resorting to violence as payback for the last incident that had happened between them. not the one in auriel. the one before that.
his voiceless name earns a scowl mirroring the one he had seen when tim first opened the door, albeit a little less - loud. damian wayne hardly exists, here, for a multitude of reasons. but he doesn't exist under any other name either.
damian drops the leash, because he doesn't feel a need for it anymore. his head tips in towards the wolfdog, gesturing to her. )
Aurora allows us to exchange some kind of participation points for whatever we ask of her. I had a significant amount, of course, and opted to verify your story. ( not exactly but close enough. ) She did recognize me.
[Because there's a petite girl wolfdog throwing herself at him with none of her usual grace- her rump slams into Tim's knees and he catches himself before he stumbles.
Soon his hands are buried deep into thick fur, and Tim breathes through the onslaught of emotion.
And concern. The fear that'd been tinting his words can now be read in his face and in the way his fingers grab at Laelaps' scruff to, maybe, get some control over this situation.
Oh, Damian-- no... if there's a points system then it's not for them to spend on-- nice clothes or sweets or... pets. Who's to say it's not the currency that'll buy the safety of their worlds--? They were here to prove their worth, after all, and it made sense to tally any achievements. But Damian wanted the dog. Of course he had wanted the dog. Tim blinks away the wetness in his eyes before any spills.
(Damian is a child.)]
What-- so what are you going to do with her? She was okay when you walked her over? She's seen like, 30 people, ever, in her whole life.
[Damian is a child. And Tim can see gloating for what it is: Laelaps is Damian's dog. And god, he's not angry that the twerp claimed her but it's-- a lot.
Fuck.]
I mean, I didn't know what the... what the hell I was doing with her, either. She's so happy to see you again. You'll-- you'll figure it out.
( he does close the door, but it's less for drake and more for laelaps. drake holds onto the wolfdog as if his life depends on it, as if she's all he has in the world and damian - scowls at him, but says nothing.
the reaction from drake says more than enough, he doesn't require words to sort this out. he looks close to tears, which is pathetic in a way damian isn't putting to words because it would be overly cruel, wouldn't it, to point out how terribly drake is managing his emotions. perhaps not as cruel as what he had done to damian, but this is not a competition to see which one of them is capable of making the larger mess.
no.
this is hardly even proving a point, as far as damian is concerned. )
Do you think I came all the way over here for nothing with an ill-socialized dog? You will figure it out.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The Same Day As...
Followed by a familiar green script. ]
{ I think you should consider this, too. }
no subject
Also,]
user name: R.B. said they had background in hematology.
I'd get right on that.
Where I was, there was an unidentified component to the blood samples we managed to take of the people not native to the world.
Some animals and creatures also had the corrupted blood.
People or animals who didn't were less susceptible to the malicious magic of the place.
no subject
R.B.'s another semi-familiar from an unfamiliar world, too.
His name is Kirk Langstrom, and he seems to be his world's Batman.
When you've got time later, I'll run you through the specs on his file, his Superman's, and their base. }
[ Of course, Barbara has wormed her way into the Tower of Justice's whole system. All it took was Bruce deciding to make one stupid move, and all hers became twice as long a game. ]
no subject
[Barbar- uh-- Batgirl wouldn't volunteer herself to anyone she didn't deem worthy, much less would she volunteer information if there was an inkling of suspicion but... Tim can say it. He doesn't care.
He's paranoid.
Maybe.
Sue him.]
What do I need to know about them? And how are we keeping Tim Drake a stranger from Batgirl?
[She could have roped him in without mentioning teammates. Unless...]
no subject
But there it comes up suddenly.
As though just reaching out to Tim at home. ]
{ Talis is less complicated than Talis' people are. They can get deeply territorial, and there wasn't almost an explosive dust-up between them and the original older version of Damian last year. Literally. They are deeply divided, but if one of them is endangered, they all come out as a single force.
Sound like anyone else we know? }
[ Is she avoiding that other one just for the breath of five more seconds? Maybe.
But she's already balancing at least two possibilities for it, too. ]
no subject
Is this entanglement really what they need, though? To keep the mission objective at the forefront, not the backburner while territoriality squabbles for its share of undivided attention (or else, apparently, a Robin would go boom).
Is there even a choice?]
It sounds like keeping to strict business is the way to go.
[Which brings him to,] That'll be a lot on Tim Drake's hands. It could [it will] get messy.
no subject
[ Or it always seems to become it. Eventually.
There's a sigh out of her nose. Five seconds is only what it is. ]
{ I won't push for the other option. } [ Not yet at least. She can't quite make her mind believe she means at all. It's a snarled up tangle pulling back from the assumption she hadn't meant in the first place, the faux pax she hasn't made with anyone in their family from another world since the second Dick.
She doesn't know if what she wants to do is push. Or it's that she wants to push for the why, but that's definitely not the kind of thing she'd press over the comms here or at home. Some things deserve a more human touch. Real faces. Real voices. Of course, she wants to know. Of course, it grates. Of course, it turns into links in a too-long chain. But. Even more. It's a worry beyond Oracle and this mission. It's a thing bigger than his place, even if it's buried deeper. Especially in the silence of the wire. ]
{ Most of us have two different comms here for both faces hitting the network, too.
But if you want to work with one—we'll figure that out, too. }
no subject
Here Tim had thought (and hadn't bothered to clarify) that there was some way to hack the things. He'd figured he was maybe a touch too rusty to find out how.
He's not sure he knows how to feel about all of that trust in an already crooked A.I.
But fuck it, maybe he's gone and turned into a straight-up luddite. (Gross, no.)]
I know we're amassing points on this game show but I don't think I'll be spending mine on anything but the grand prize.
[Meaning,] who do you know that won't mind a comm from their stash missing?
text; un: d.grayson
You ever heard of the expression 'don't be a stranger?'
un: tjd
[And then, immediately felt in the marrow of his bones:
wow has he got to back off the whole... canine centered language thing. Game's over, this isn't the backwoods of Canada. It's just giving furry.
Tim wrinkles his nose.
Thinks, ugh . Fine.]
besides, I'm not. Where are you? I was just going to grab a late breakfast if you want to come with
no subject
That sounds great.
I've gotta be honest, I was starting to wonder if you were avoiding me on purpose.
no subject
It's not like he spent the last years reliving every instance when he'd been left well enough alone.
--that's not fair, though. Is it?]
Why would I be avoiding you [Give him ideas.
Or don't.] Ok but seriously some of us do rely on public transportation. I had to figure out the stops first. Sorry. This place is massive.
Where are you? Better question, where's the best grub?
no subject
And that one's... probably more fair than it's not, but that's a discussion for later too. ]
It is big, but there's also a lot of empty space. It's kinda eerie in places, honestly.
As far as food there's a diner in Charronway that serves breakfast all day, I'm also a fan of the burger place close to the manor if you're in more of a lunch mood. Otherwise there's a mall that's got a bunch of different options too.
no subject
I'm closer to the manor right now if that works for you
no subject
Sure, meet you out front?
TL;DR INCOMING im sorry for the book (cw: weight loss, disordered eating)
[He needs 10 minutes.
He needs the other ten to... to smooth the legs of his jeans for the Nth time, the material still feeling utterly alien; because cotton kills. Like the pullover hoodie (dark red- of course), the fit is loose enough to hide in. Not loose enough to fall off of him. Of course. The fit is small. (Tim is small. He never thought about it much. In the grand scheme of things, what was one skipped meal a day? Two? One sickness, another acid-bite of an empty stomach. Burning, weakness, fevers, hunger. What did those things mean to Tim anymore? Tim is small. He never thought about it much. But now that he's 7 minutes out from seeing his brother, Tim thinks-- maybe he should have thought about just how small he was getting. Not for his own sake, but because he so desperately both needs to see his brother and needs to not be seen. It's troublesome.)
Tim's hair is still shaggy(er) than he'd like it- he could pull it up. But there's a stubborn insistence that he'll look all the way presentable again, someday. Soon. (At least he's clean shaven.)
He's three minutes out and he thinks about, like, a world without Dick Grayson.
He's 5 minutes out (he's 2 minutes late) and you know, it's downright eerie to see familiar buildings in this artificial city. Tim keeps his hands in his pockets and marches on.
There's a burger place close to the Manor. Tim smells the joint before he sees it; his stomach lurches, he hears it growl and he wonders if the thought of a burger is appetizing or off-putting.
So.
That's how he greets-- Dick. Trying his damnedest to distract himself with guessing the appropriate biological responses to bacon cheeseburgers, with a slow (and slowing) gait, hands held stubbornly inside the hoodie pocket and ohmygod if he doesn't swallow that lump in his throat he's going to choke and] --- [that's not embarrassing or anything but] --uh.
[A world without Dick Grayson.
Not Etraya. Not here.
(His pack!)
What shame? Tim launches himself at his brother his brother this is his brother-!] Dick you have no idea-! [ok maybe there's a little shame; not easing on the embrace, Tim makes to hide his face. Oh my god.
hi.]
no worries at all! I write some doozies myself on occasion
Dick gives him a tight squeeze right back, because whatever Tim's had to go through, potentially on his own, he's sorry he wasn't there, even if there's no way he could have been, and he's here now.
He'll give it a minute, or more, before he tries to ruffle Tim's hair. ]
Hey.
[ Dick worries about all of them, all the time, whether or not he says so. And frankly he doesn't say so often enough, he thinks, not since he moved away from Gotham and didn't get to talk to them nearly as much. Of course then there's this place, and he's been closer to some of them, which... has been a good thing, if tough to get through some days, especially when they're thrown into the tougher missions. ]
I don't, I know. [ In answer to the statement that Tim gave up on halfway through. ] But you can tell me all about it, if you want to.
action bc damian has no respect for personal space.
not all that long after arriving, which was surprising enough as it was. talking about their feelings is hardly something he and damian are known to practice together, nor is it anything damian would have chosen to converse about had he the option. but he hadn't: drake opened his mouth, went on about the dog that had been damian's somewhere else and then had been left in his care and going on about is laelaps an okay name despite the fact it was not damian's wolfdog to have an opinion about.
and yet here they are -
damian, just outside the door of drake's chosen room, leash in hand with laelaps shoving her nose under it. he doesn't knock, no, that would be too polite - instead, damian raises a booted foot and kicks the toe box against the bottom of the door frame, hard. )
Rude.
It sounds like someone is trying to kick in his door when all Tim had wanted was to keep writing his notes, hunched over a low coffee table and Etraya's public network forum on display. He growls, train of thought successfully derailed.
--someone is trying to kick in his door.
Tim is scowling, opening the door and his mouth
and then he's not.]
Lily?
[A wolfdog. Golden eyes. Small framed. Off white, gray tufts of fur over her shoulder and hips and Tim's frozen with the door open only halfway because he doesn't know what] Where'd you find her? [The words are rough; Tim's mouth hot and dry. His eyes are, shockingly, dry too. Tim turns them to-] Damian? [He doesn't know what to call the boy, so the name is soundless. The fear isn't.
A boy and his dog, on his doorstep. A boy and his dog. A boy and his dog.
Tim swallows around the lump in his throat.]
She recognized you.
[Or else she wouldn't be leashed.]
no subject
the scowl doesn't last very long, something more akin to shock taking over quickly and for a brief moment, damian considers resorting to violence as payback for the last incident that had happened between them. not the one in auriel. the one before that.
his voiceless name earns a scowl mirroring the one he had seen when tim first opened the door, albeit a little less - loud. damian wayne hardly exists, here, for a multitude of reasons. but he doesn't exist under any other name either.
damian drops the leash, because he doesn't feel a need for it anymore. his head tips in towards the wolfdog, gesturing to her. )
Aurora allows us to exchange some kind of participation points for whatever we ask of her. I had a significant amount, of course, and opted to verify your story. ( not exactly but close enough. ) She did recognize me.
no subject
[Because there's a petite girl wolfdog throwing herself at him with none of her usual grace- her rump slams into Tim's knees and he catches himself before he stumbles.
Soon his hands are buried deep into thick fur, and Tim breathes through the onslaught of emotion.
And concern. The fear that'd been tinting his words can now be read in his face and in the way his fingers grab at Laelaps' scruff to, maybe, get some control over this situation.
Oh, Damian-- no... if there's a points system then it's not for them to spend on-- nice clothes or sweets or... pets. Who's to say it's not the currency that'll buy the safety of their worlds--? They were here to prove their worth, after all, and it made sense to tally any achievements. But Damian wanted the dog. Of course he had wanted the dog. Tim blinks away the wetness in his eyes before any spills.
(Damian is a child.)]
What-- so what are you going to do with her? She was okay when you walked her over? She's seen like, 30 people, ever, in her whole life.
[Damian is a child. And Tim can see gloating for what it is: Laelaps is Damian's dog. And god, he's not angry that the twerp claimed her but it's-- a lot.
Fuck.]
I mean, I didn't know what the... what the hell I was doing with her, either. She's so happy to see you again. You'll-- you'll figure it out.
no subject
the reaction from drake says more than enough, he doesn't require words to sort this out. he looks close to tears, which is pathetic in a way damian isn't putting to words because it would be overly cruel, wouldn't it, to point out how terribly drake is managing his emotions. perhaps not as cruel as what he had done to damian, but this is not a competition to see which one of them is capable of making the larger mess.
no.
this is hardly even proving a point, as far as damian is concerned. )
Do you think I came all the way over here for nothing with an ill-socialized dog? You will figure it out.
text | un: ceo
Then he decided Bruce was good enough. ]
Settling in well I hope.
no subject
Sounds fake.
Tim exhales. Wonders, can he snap a picture of his dog-?]
yeah and I even got some house warming gifts. We'll see how this mission goes.
no subject
Need anything else before the mission starts?