[The boy had been waiting for hours. He won't admit to being anxious, he's been left before, he isn't a child left in the maze, sobbing into his hands in the dark, unsure if the shadows are moving towards him--
the shadows here are interrupted by the neon lights of the supermarket. he hides himself in the alley beside it and a laundromat, watching the masses steadily stream in and out. Anyone stupid enough to pass through his hiding spot aren't too stupid that they won't give him a wide berth, ducking down, avoiding eye contact.
It's cold, the kind of cold that nips all the way to the bone. when his veins are filled with electrum, that won't be a problem-- a noise in the alley catches his attention. he turns slightly, knife between his fingers ]
[Tuesday was chore day. It had started Before, when his mother had put on music and scrubbed the tiny apartment so that when Jason had gotten home from school, it smelled like lemon cleaner and fresh incense. She'd scoop him up and together they'd make the walk to the little bodega around the corner, shopping list in hand and a wagon of laundry behind them.
Later, when Willis was gone and his mother refused to leave the comfort of her high, Jason had kept the tradition. He cleaned to the best of his ability, then tried to gather up what laundry he could find. Money was tight, but he made it work, coming home with wet laundry to be hung around the apartment to dry and a bag of cheap pasta and damaged cans.
Now that he was by himself, he saw no reason to stop. It was a different apartment and his clothes all fit in a single backpack instead of a wagon, but he still dutifully made the weekly trip. At the ripe age of eleven, he'd long ago gotten over his fear of Gotham's alleyways. He knew them almost better than he knew the main streets. Which ones to avoid, which ones provided the most shelter from storms or cold.
Which ones could be counted on to find the opportunity to earn twenty bucks.
The alley between the bodega and the laundromat wasn't a populated one usually, so the boy hadn't hesitated to cut through it in an attempt to shave off a few minutes of travel. He hadn't expected to run into anyone, and yet-]
[a smaller boy. this particular boy isn't the best at ages-- having only seen a few children his age down below, but this one has to be younger than he is. he's alone. he may not know much, a bumpkin in a big city, but he knows that this isn't normal. there's usually an adult accompanying a child this small.
he shrugs, peering at the other boy through his eyelashes-- he isn't a threat. no weapons on him, doesn't move like a fighter. he doesn't feel safe, but he knows he can handle it.]
Where your parents?
[his voice croaks like the gate of a graveyard. unused for-- he isn't quite sure]
[Estimating Jason's age was not helped by the fact that he was so small. He looked younger than his already young years, and yet he was one in that alley who had a coat on. It was old and had holes, but it was still there.
He cocked his head at the sound of that rough voice, frowning softly. The older boy sounded...rough. Not sick, not like how he sounded when his chest rattled and he couldn't get warm even with all his clothes layered on and wrapped in all his blankets, but something close to that. And it was cold. Jason shook his head and pursed his lips before he reached up to pull his scarf off and hand it over to the other boy.]
It's clean, washed it last week. Gunna wash more now if ya wanna come an' sit inside? It'll be warmer an' Rudy won' kick ya out if yous is sittin' wit' me. But I ain' workin' today. Yous can sit, but if yous is lookin' for more, ya can piss off. Got it?
[His accent was thick East side Gotham and the curse word rolled off his tongue like he said it every day.]
[his fingers curl around the soft material of the scarf before he can stop himself, before he realizes it-- he'd reached out, made contact with someone from up above. but the scarf is very soft, he hasn't felt softness like this since-- quilted blankets in his cot, the scent of herbs, a woman's laughter--
he focuses on the rest of what the boy says, brow furrowing under his mask. it shows in the exposed mouth]
Don't want more. [the scarf is already-- it's cold and this boy is out here alone?? a talon could get him if he isn't careful.]
Careful.
[is what he says instead, nodding towards the building this boy is clearly aiming for. the promise of warmth is nice...but he'd rather make sure nothing sees Jason]
[The boy reached out and for a moment Jason considers that he might have made a mistake...but then his fingers are curling around the scarf and Jason's shoulders relaxed a little. At least until he realized the kid wasn't actually putting the scarf on.]
Yous is really new at dis, aincha? Here- [He stepped forward, making sure to broadcast his movements so he didn't accidentally startle this kid who'd probably never been in a situation like this before. If the kid didn't stop him, he gently took the scarf and looped it around the boy's neck, keeping it loose but tucking the tails into his...shirt? to keep it secure.]
Pull up the front a little, it'll trap ya breath an' stay warm, but it'll freeze if it gets too wet. So...only pull it up if yous is really cold, yeah? Come on, it's warm in here.
[He offered a kind, lopsided smile before he lead the way through the alley and onto the sidewalk proper. From there, it was just a matter of going inside. It was loud with the back bank of dryers running, but it was warm and Jason rubbed his hands together as feeling started to come back into them.]
Go sit, I'll be just a sec. You got anyt'ing you wanna wash? I ain' gotta full load, so I got room.
[he flinches at the contact, the careful tucking, and his shoulders tense, readying himself for pain and hurt, for cruelty--
but when the boy gives him that lopsided smile, his shoulders untuck minutely. again, it isn't like he can't handle it, the boy is tiny. but. he leads him into that warm, loud room, his pale cheeks immediately flushing with the heat of it seeping into him, down his still limbs, right to his toes in the steel-toed boots. he can't help but hang back awkwardly, half his attention flicks to the window.
no handler. the boy's voice draws his attention back.]
Got nothing. Just careful. [he urges again; because it's empty, here, no one ogling the strange duo, but empty enough to draw attention.
he also doesn't sit; decides to stand there like a boogeyman, those blue eyes on Jason's movements, idle more than curious]
[That was the second time the boy had urged him to be careful and Jason grinned a little.]
You keep tellin' me ta be careful, but yous is the one who doesn' know how ta wear a scarf.
[It was a gentle tease, though. He'd seen that flinch, could guess what it meant. He'd done much the same himself, if he were honest. He didn't want to make the kid think he was going to get rough with his teasing, though, so he was careful to keep it lighthearted as he swung his backpack around and started dragging a chair towards the second bank of washers.
The boy's footsteps following him made him pause, but only offered a small shrug before he continued with the small chore of setting up the chair in front of an empty washer and climbing up onto it so he could actually start pulling his clothes out and load the machine. When his bag was empty, he glanced over towards the empty customer service desk before hurriedly pulling out a scrap of bar soap and a pocket knife, shaving a few delicate peels into the basin before he stashed the bar and knife back.
Lid closed, five quarters carefully slotted into the change pusher and then the machine was filling and Jason was climbing down off the chair. It wobbled ominously, but held until the boy was back on the ground.]
Ya hungry? Gotta granola bar in my bag if ya wan' it?
[he does what an owl does second-best: he watches him drag the chair, scrape the soap, step back down without the coins he'd carefully brought, watches through his dull gaze.
when the chair's done wobbling, the owl boy points at it, then at Jason]
No. You eat.
[okay, this little kid is alone, has only a bar to eat, and he's out here in the dark? this owl boy almost feels like crowding the kid until he knows he'll leave, back into the safety, and the light.
then again this is still gotham, and from what he remembers of gotham-- no. he takes that moment to duck a little into the scarf-- it smells okay. not bad. just like it's been around the other boy, warm from him, from the pasta he's eaten this past week]
[It was weird. Not in a bad way, just...weird. Like having an overprotective shadow watching everything he did. Or a really well trained guard dog, like the kind that patrolled the junkyards over on 5th and W. Hammond. It was weird.
But it wasn't unwelcome.
Dragging the chair back over to the wall where he'd found it, Jason sat and then pointed to the one next to him. His bag got pulled up into his lap and he opened one of the smaller, front zippers, pulling out a slightly malformed but still in it's wrapper granola bar. 'Strawberry Creme' the packaging said and Jason carefully broke the bar in half, handing one over to his company.]
We both eat. I'm Jason, but you can call me Jay if you want. What's your name?
[if you give a trained assassin a scarf-- you have to give him a granola bar. if you give him a granola bar, you're probably stuck with him at least until your errands are done.
he sits. takes half of the bar with careful fingers, like he'll break it, or break the other boy-- the meals he eats aren't unlike this. military ration types, all taste the same, and certainly don't smell like this dubiously fruity bar.
Jason. the boy's name is Jason. he recalls from somewhere long, long ago, the name is a name for someone of healing.
his name takes a moment to rise to the surface. he's been referred to as 'the boy' for so long, it takes a moment for him to croak it out]
It didn't fit the older boy, but Jason didn't mind. 'Jason' didn't exactly fit him, either. His mother had always just called him 'Jay' and he liked that. If this strange boy wanted to be called 'Richard', then so be it.
He smiled, bright and pleased as he took his first careful bite of his half of the bar.]
Nice to meetcha! Yous new to here? I haven't seen ya before an' I know most everyone. If yous want, I can show ya 'round? Not today, though. Tuesdays are chore days.
[Across the room there was the sound of shuffling and then a middle aged, heavy set man was sinking into the previously empty chair behind the service desk. He huffed, eyeing the two boys before calling out.
No tricks in my laundromat, Jay!
Jason rolled his eyes, but raised a hand with his middle finger extended towards the chuckling man.]
Ignore him, he's just mad he's stuck in this joint.
[the other b-- Jason. Jason doesn't exactly talk fast, but it's a bit to parse out for the talon in training. he isn't so afraid that he's going to run off. that...makes no sense, so Jason clearly needs someone to make sure he gets where he's going. a handler or something like it.
at the sound of another person interrupting this little bubble of quiet, of peace and ain't that some shit beneath the sound of endless screaming and the thud of blows landing on bodies Richard bristles, his eyes narrowing behind the mask at the man.]
Safe?
[the man doesn't have proper balance, probably hasn't been in many fights in his life. Richard could take him and shield the boy at the same time.]
[If you give an assassin a scarf, one day you'll fall into a drain pipe. It might take three years and a whole world of change, but eventually it'll happen. Even if it was by accident, having been fighting Scarecrow in the dam of a reservoir and getting thrown off the side like you weight all of eighty pounds.
Jason hit the water and the current hit him hard, dragging him down into the rushing depths like nothing more than a trapped leaf or a twig. His cape acted as an anchor, soaking up water like it was designed to fight fires instead of keep the boy who wore it safe, keeping him moving with the current no matter how hard he kicked or flailed his arms. The waterways whipped him hard into it's concrete shores, the steep angle making it impossible for thin fingers to get purchase even as he dragged in mouthfuls of much needed air. Time became heartbeats and space became nothing and by the time he flew out of the end of the pipe he'd been diverted to, he was so far under the city he'd sworn to protect he had absolutely no bearing for where he was.
He was twelve and soaked to the bone, exhausted by the fight with Scarecrow and bloodied by the fight with the water and his domino was half peeled off his face....but he didn't cry. He didn't call out for help. He choked up water until his lungs could fill with air once more, then quietly rolled to his front and pushed himself up with trembling arms.
Because when you give an assassin a scarf, you're made of sterner stuff than most.]
[If you receive a scarf from a little boy when you're barely out of boyhood yourself you're going to want to keep an eye on him sometimes. whenever you get a chance to sneak out from beneath the city you'd been charged to enforce until the end of time or until it collapses, you look for that little soul just as lost as you are.
Dick-- and he's Dick now-- almost happy to take it back from the trainers and other owlings that had tried to use it against him. he'd let it roll off his shoulders instead, like fresh water-- what a concept. Dick had caught glimpses of the boy, Jason, here and there. Just enough to know he's alive (and relief bursting in his chest like a balloon with too much air, lungs with too much fluid). Granted, there had been a time recently when he'd lost sight....but he tried not to worry.
Things underground were a little too hot (sort of what he imagines Hell to be like, further down and awaiting him) for comfort, for distractions as much as he enjoys them. A fight up above had caught the attention of their leaders, and Dick, like a few of the other near-Talons, had been sent up. He'd dawdled, he could admit that, and in retrospect he'll be glad he did.
He knows of the Batman, the seething anger, yet calculating interest, his leaders have for the urban legend of a being-- and of the boy that follows him. It's the cape he sees, first, tangled and soaked against the ground. Connected to it is a boy. He knows how dangerous the kid can be on his own, so he approaches with caution. Pokes at the turned back. And when there's no boy-shaped thing jumping up with a quip and a punch, Dick rolls him over. Looks into a face a few years older, leaner, but a face he'll remember even when they fill his veins with ice and immortality]
[He'd managed to drag himself up to solid, dry land before exhaustion and oxygen deprivation had stolen his strength from his thin limbs. He'd passed out, water still occasionally bubbling from his lips as his chest heaved to pull more air in. He didn't move when the boy turned owlet crept up behind him, body heavy and water logged when prodding claws poked at his back.
His domino was bent back over itself, half his face exposed to the world. Bruce would be furious once he got over the kneejerk fear of having his Robin flung bodily into the waterways below Gotham.
He flinched with the first 'hey'. His eyes fluttered open with the second....and then he was a flurry of boy shaped motion, green and red and sopping yellow blurring as he scrambled to put some distance between himself and the figure that was crouched over him. His one visible eye widened when he realized that his mask was half gone, one muddy hand coming up to cover his exposed face. His lips pulled back in an angry snarl as he scrambled up to his feet, but even his anger did nothing to stop him from shivering. It wasn't surprising. That water was frigid at best and he wasn't exactly wearing pants.
But for as disorientated as he was, a flicker of a memory made him pause. A winter's afternoon on a chore day, a warm laundromat and a sweet granola bar...and a friend. A scarf.
It had been years since he'd seen his odd duck. He'd thought he'd seen the boy in brief flashes, usually after something particularly rough had happened. When the fire had taken the foreclosed building he'd been squatting in. When a john had been exceptionally rough with him or had refused to pay. When the city had been hit by a storm hard enough to flood most of the East End. Just little flickers of motion from the corner of his eye, an outline of that mask in a window, a familiar feeling of someone standing at his back... but any time he'd tried to look closer, it had slipped away like so much smoke.
Except this time. A little bigger, sure. A littler broader in the shoulder, taller in the hip...but the costume was the same. The mask was the same. And sure, there was nothing that proved that it was Richard....but who the hell else would wear something like that?]
[the muddy hands and the snarl, lips pulled back over gums like a rabid dog, doesn't do anything to deter the smile that breaks over Dick's face-- not that Jason can see it-- but the laugh breaks free, a delighted sound like it's been knocked free from the bottom of a river, bubbles rising to the surface finally.
he reaches out with one hand slowly, steadily, and touches Jason's temple, saying, with triumph]
Jason.
[give him a minute to swallow the pure awe at seeing him this close, this big-- and in the freaking Robin costume, that's going to be a talking point, but]
[The laugh settled something in his chest. It was a raw sound, bright and unfiltered despite the older boy's age. He hadn't heard it during their short day together all those years ago, but even so the sound caught in his ears and coaxed an answering smile to his lips.
It was Richard. The poke confirmed it and even though the casual mention of his name should have made him uneasy considering the circumstances, he only let out a peal of laughter of his own before he reached out to poke the mask right in the center of what should be his friend's forehead.]
What are you doing here? [A pause. A blink. A small glance around the expansive, alien darkness.] ...Where is here?
[and still, still, that happy, bright laugh even when the circumstances far from call from it, down here in the dark and the filth with him. still.
he goes crosseyed at the almost-touch, doesn't still and doesn't flinch like he would have because this is his friend, this is Jay.]
The sewer. Underground. Not supposed to be down here with us, Jay. [his tone a little more subdued, even though he's so, so happy to see him. happy, for once, a stolen moment down here] Fight with the Bat?
[He made a face at the suggestion that they were in the sewers, the half detached domino doing little to hide it. The water he'd been rushed through hadn't been sewage and the mud didn't seem like anything other than dirt, but he still had a moment of childlike disgust before he heaved a sigh and reached up to peel the rest of his sodden domino off his face. Bruce would be pissed about it, but he'd be sure to glue it back on before they reached the surface.
It wasn't like the mask was hiding his identity from Richard, after all.
Stowing the mask in his belt, he winced as he gingerly rolled his joints to feel exactly how badly he was injured after the concrete waterslide from hell.]
Yeah. Got thrown off a walkway and apparently flushed. Need to get back up there, though. He needs my help!
[Did Bruce actually need his help? Probably not. But he liked to think he was at least a little useful. Even if he felt a little bit like a drowned rat as he unclipped his cape so he could bring it around and start wringing water out of it.]
[his own mask has done wonders to hide his incredibly expressive face at one point, and since being turned into a frozen blueberry Gatorade, he's gotten better at it. so there's no trace of the minute widening of his eyes when he sees the full extent of Robin's face, the dark circles no doubt under his eyes even in the dim lighting down here.]
Rest, first. [it's an echo of so long ago, tone a little more disapproving] Batman can handle. You handle this.
[kind of gestures to all of Jason, but doesn't go as far as to touch him again to see if he's hurt]
[It was a little strange how he felt so close to the other boy, but hadn't actually ever seen his face. He'd heard his voice, felt his warmth and his protection, but that avian mask had always been securely in place. As a kid, he'd found it weird and a little endearing....but as Robin, there was just the smallest little itch of curiosity starting in the back of his mind.
The itch was easily ignored when faced with the boy's all too familiar over protectiveness, however.
He snorted softly, rolling his eyes a little as he aimed a Look at his friend's direction as he staggered a little further away from the edge of the run off he'd managed to escape from. He wasn't heading for the door yet...but it was clear he had no plans on waiting for long.]
You can't disappear on me for years and then immediately go back to fussing, Richard. Come on, moving will warm me up. That water was freezing.
[He was pointedly not paying any heed to the many scrapes and oozing cuts on his bare arms and legs that were in clear view now that his cape was off and in his hands instead of around his shoulders.]
[Though he only saw the look a couple of times, it's nostalgic to the Talon. It's fond, though unnecessary, as most emotions are as far as he's been taught. But he still worries, still breathes, still has the laughter to spare, very sparingly. ]
Hurt. Gonna get infected. Besides, I saw you.
[he means up there, his answer petulant beneath that muffled mask, beneath the ease of his long limbs at his side, following after the boy without another word.]
[He paused mid-step, half turning to eye his over protective companion. For a moment, it looked like he might actually stop. Maybe ask a few questions or take Dick up on his suggestion of medical attention...but then he was just wiping a trickle of red off his face from where it was trickling from a scrape at his hairline.]
So you know how to get back up there from here? Awesome, let's go.
[He was Robin. He'd been hurt way worse than this (He hadn't. Not yet) and he wasn't about to let a few scrapes or hypothermia keep him from helping people.]
[That's probably much better than admitting he'd seen him throughout Gotham from time to time, Before the entire Robin situation. Which, though he has no right to complain about...he's not thrilled.
Speaking of--]
Hurt. You're hurt.
[he'll show him the way up, but give him a second to yoink a strip of cloth from his uniform (hardly much cleaner) to dab at Robin's forehead]
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branchandroot
"People Who Make Good First Impressions Usually Suck"
Date: 2025-07-20 12:43 am (UTC)the shadows here are interrupted by the neon lights of the supermarket. he hides himself in the alley beside it and a laundromat, watching the masses steadily stream in and out. Anyone stupid enough to pass through his hiding spot aren't too stupid that they won't give him a wide berth, ducking down, avoiding eye contact.
It's cold, the kind of cold that nips all the way to the bone. when his veins are filled with electrum, that won't be a problem-- a noise in the alley catches his attention. he turns slightly, knife between his fingers ]
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Date: 2025-07-20 12:58 am (UTC)Later, when Willis was gone and his mother refused to leave the comfort of her high, Jason had kept the tradition. He cleaned to the best of his ability, then tried to gather up what laundry he could find. Money was tight, but he made it work, coming home with wet laundry to be hung around the apartment to dry and a bag of cheap pasta and damaged cans.
Now that he was by himself, he saw no reason to stop. It was a different apartment and his clothes all fit in a single backpack instead of a wagon, but he still dutifully made the weekly trip. At the ripe age of eleven, he'd long ago gotten over his fear of Gotham's alleyways. He knew them almost better than he knew the main streets. Which ones to avoid, which ones provided the most shelter from storms or cold.
Which ones could be counted on to find the opportunity to earn twenty bucks.
The alley between the bodega and the laundromat wasn't a populated one usually, so the boy hadn't hesitated to cut through it in an attempt to shave off a few minutes of travel. He hadn't expected to run into anyone, and yet-]
What the hell are you wearing?
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Date: 2025-07-20 01:23 am (UTC)he shrugs, peering at the other boy through his eyelashes-- he isn't a threat. no weapons on him, doesn't move like a fighter. he doesn't feel safe, but he knows he can handle it.]
Where your parents?
[his voice croaks like the gate of a graveyard. unused for-- he isn't quite sure]
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Date: 2025-07-20 01:43 am (UTC)He cocked his head at the sound of that rough voice, frowning softly. The older boy sounded...rough. Not sick, not like how he sounded when his chest rattled and he couldn't get warm even with all his clothes layered on and wrapped in all his blankets, but something close to that. And it was cold. Jason shook his head and pursed his lips before he reached up to pull his scarf off and hand it over to the other boy.]
It's clean, washed it last week. Gunna wash more now if ya wanna come an' sit inside? It'll be warmer an' Rudy won' kick ya out if yous is sittin' wit' me. But I ain' workin' today. Yous can sit, but if yous is lookin' for more, ya can piss off. Got it?
[His accent was thick East side Gotham and the curse word rolled off his tongue like he said it every day.]
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Date: 2025-07-20 02:20 am (UTC)he focuses on the rest of what the boy says, brow furrowing under his mask. it shows in the exposed mouth]
Don't want more. [the scarf is already-- it's cold and this boy is out here alone?? a talon could get him if he isn't careful.]
Careful.
[is what he says instead, nodding towards the building this boy is clearly aiming for. the promise of warmth is nice...but he'd rather make sure nothing sees Jason]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-20 02:37 am (UTC)Yous is really new at dis, aincha? Here- [He stepped forward, making sure to broadcast his movements so he didn't accidentally startle this kid who'd probably never been in a situation like this before. If the kid didn't stop him, he gently took the scarf and looped it around the boy's neck, keeping it loose but tucking the tails into his...shirt? to keep it secure.]
Pull up the front a little, it'll trap ya breath an' stay warm, but it'll freeze if it gets too wet. So...only pull it up if yous is really cold, yeah? Come on, it's warm in here.
[He offered a kind, lopsided smile before he lead the way through the alley and onto the sidewalk proper. From there, it was just a matter of going inside. It was loud with the back bank of dryers running, but it was warm and Jason rubbed his hands together as feeling started to come back into them.]
Go sit, I'll be just a sec. You got anyt'ing you wanna wash? I ain' gotta full load, so I got room.
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Date: 2025-07-20 03:06 am (UTC)but when the boy gives him that lopsided smile, his shoulders untuck minutely. again, it isn't like he can't handle it, the boy is tiny. but. he leads him into that warm, loud room, his pale cheeks immediately flushing with the heat of it seeping into him, down his still limbs, right to his toes in the steel-toed boots. he can't help but hang back awkwardly, half his attention flicks to the window.
no handler. the boy's voice draws his attention back.]
Got nothing. Just careful. [he urges again; because it's empty, here, no one ogling the strange duo, but empty enough to draw attention.
he also doesn't sit; decides to stand there like a boogeyman, those blue eyes on Jason's movements, idle more than curious]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-20 03:33 am (UTC)You keep tellin' me ta be careful, but yous is the one who doesn' know how ta wear a scarf.
[It was a gentle tease, though. He'd seen that flinch, could guess what it meant. He'd done much the same himself, if he were honest. He didn't want to make the kid think he was going to get rough with his teasing, though, so he was careful to keep it lighthearted as he swung his backpack around and started dragging a chair towards the second bank of washers.
The boy's footsteps following him made him pause, but only offered a small shrug before he continued with the small chore of setting up the chair in front of an empty washer and climbing up onto it so he could actually start pulling his clothes out and load the machine. When his bag was empty, he glanced over towards the empty customer service desk before hurriedly pulling out a scrap of bar soap and a pocket knife, shaving a few delicate peels into the basin before he stashed the bar and knife back.
Lid closed, five quarters carefully slotted into the change pusher and then the machine was filling and Jason was climbing down off the chair. It wobbled ominously, but held until the boy was back on the ground.]
Ya hungry? Gotta granola bar in my bag if ya wan' it?
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Date: 2025-07-20 04:09 am (UTC)when the chair's done wobbling, the owl boy points at it, then at Jason]
No. You eat.
[okay, this little kid is alone, has only a bar to eat, and he's out here in the dark? this owl boy almost feels like crowding the kid until he knows he'll leave, back into the safety, and the light.
then again this is still gotham, and from what he remembers of gotham-- no. he takes that moment to duck a little into the scarf-- it smells okay. not bad. just like it's been around the other boy, warm from him, from the pasta he's eaten this past week]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-20 06:28 pm (UTC)But it wasn't unwelcome.
Dragging the chair back over to the wall where he'd found it, Jason sat and then pointed to the one next to him. His bag got pulled up into his lap and he opened one of the smaller, front zippers, pulling out a slightly malformed but still in it's wrapper granola bar. 'Strawberry Creme' the packaging said and Jason carefully broke the bar in half, handing one over to his company.]
We both eat. I'm Jason, but you can call me Jay if you want. What's your name?
no subject
Date: 2025-07-21 01:56 am (UTC)he sits. takes half of the bar with careful fingers, like he'll break it, or break the other boy-- the meals he eats aren't unlike this. military ration types, all taste the same, and certainly don't smell like this dubiously fruity bar.
Jason. the boy's name is Jason. he recalls from somewhere long, long ago, the name is a name for someone of healing.
his name takes a moment to rise to the surface. he's been referred to as 'the boy' for so long, it takes a moment for him to croak it out]
Richard.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-21 02:19 am (UTC)It didn't fit the older boy, but Jason didn't mind. 'Jason' didn't exactly fit him, either. His mother had always just called him 'Jay' and he liked that. If this strange boy wanted to be called 'Richard', then so be it.
He smiled, bright and pleased as he took his first careful bite of his half of the bar.]
Nice to meetcha! Yous new to here? I haven't seen ya before an' I know most everyone. If yous want, I can show ya 'round? Not today, though. Tuesdays are chore days.
[Across the room there was the sound of shuffling and then a middle aged, heavy set man was sinking into the previously empty chair behind the service desk. He huffed, eyeing the two boys before calling out.
No tricks in my laundromat, Jay!
Jason rolled his eyes, but raised a hand with his middle finger extended towards the chuckling man.]
Ignore him, he's just mad he's stuck in this joint.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-21 02:52 am (UTC)at the sound of another person interrupting this little bubble of quiet, of peace
and ain't that some shit beneath the sound of endless screaming and the thud of blows landing on bodiesRichard bristles, his eyes narrowing behind the mask at the man.]Safe?
[the man doesn't have proper balance, probably hasn't been in many fights in his life. Richard could take him and shield the boy at the same time.]
Been here. Down.
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From:omg, I cannot wait until the next time they meet and Jay has lost this street accent. XD
From:rofl i'm soooo sorry!
From:No, I'm sorry that you have to read it. XD
From:no! i think its adorable and very authentic
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From:"I Make A Great Second Impression"
Date: 2025-09-16 07:00 am (UTC)Jason hit the water and the current hit him hard, dragging him down into the rushing depths like nothing more than a trapped leaf or a twig. His cape acted as an anchor, soaking up water like it was designed to fight fires instead of keep the boy who wore it safe, keeping him moving with the current no matter how hard he kicked or flailed his arms. The waterways whipped him hard into it's concrete shores, the steep angle making it impossible for thin fingers to get purchase even as he dragged in mouthfuls of much needed air. Time became heartbeats and space became nothing and by the time he flew out of the end of the pipe he'd been diverted to, he was so far under the city he'd sworn to protect he had absolutely no bearing for where he was.
He was twelve and soaked to the bone, exhausted by the fight with Scarecrow and bloodied by the fight with the water and his domino was half peeled off his face....but he didn't cry. He didn't call out for help. He choked up water until his lungs could fill with air once more, then quietly rolled to his front and pushed himself up with trembling arms.
Because when you give an assassin a scarf, you're made of sterner stuff than most.]
and to use that icon in MY HOUSE
Date: 2025-09-16 07:30 am (UTC)Dick-- and he's Dick now-- almost happy to take it back from the trainers and other owlings that had tried to use it against him. he'd let it roll off his shoulders instead, like fresh water-- what a concept. Dick had caught glimpses of the boy, Jason, here and there. Just enough to know he's alive (and relief bursting in his chest like a balloon with too much air, lungs with too much fluid). Granted, there had been a time recently when he'd lost sight....but he tried not to worry.
Things underground were a little too hot (sort of what he imagines Hell to be like, further down and awaiting him) for comfort, for distractions as much as he enjoys them. A fight up above had caught the attention of their leaders, and Dick, like a few of the other near-Talons, had been sent up. He'd dawdled, he could admit that, and in retrospect he'll be glad he did.
He knows of the Batman, the seething anger, yet calculating interest, his leaders have for the urban legend of a being-- and of the boy that follows him. It's the cape he sees, first, tangled and soaked against the ground. Connected to it is a boy. He knows how dangerous the kid can be on his own, so he approaches with caution. Pokes at the turned back. And when there's no boy-shaped thing jumping up with a quip and a punch, Dick rolls him over. Looks into a face a few years older, leaner, but a face he'll remember even when they fill his veins with ice and immortality]
Hey...Hey!
Just you wait until I get to use it for real.
Date: 2025-09-16 09:15 am (UTC)His domino was bent back over itself, half his face exposed to the world. Bruce would be furious once he got over the kneejerk fear of having his Robin flung bodily into the waterways below Gotham.
He flinched with the first 'hey'. His eyes fluttered open with the second....and then he was a flurry of boy shaped motion, green and red and sopping yellow blurring as he scrambled to put some distance between himself and the figure that was crouched over him. His one visible eye widened when he realized that his mask was half gone, one muddy hand coming up to cover his exposed face. His lips pulled back in an angry snarl as he scrambled up to his feet, but even his anger did nothing to stop him from shivering. It wasn't surprising. That water was frigid at best and he wasn't exactly wearing pants.
But for as disorientated as he was, a flicker of a memory made him pause. A winter's afternoon on a chore day, a warm laundromat and a sweet granola bar...and a friend. A scarf.
It had been years since he'd seen his odd duck. He'd thought he'd seen the boy in brief flashes, usually after something particularly rough had happened. When the fire had taken the foreclosed building he'd been squatting in. When a john had been exceptionally rough with him or had refused to pay. When the city had been hit by a storm hard enough to flood most of the East End. Just little flickers of motion from the corner of his eye, an outline of that mask in a window, a familiar feeling of someone standing at his back... but any time he'd tried to look closer, it had slipped away like so much smoke.
Except this time. A little bigger, sure. A littler broader in the shoulder, taller in the hip...but the costume was the same. The mask was the same. And sure, there was nothing that proved that it was Richard....but who the hell else would wear something like that?]
..Duckie?
*ralph voice* ahahaha im in danger !!
Date: 2025-09-17 02:45 am (UTC)he reaches out with one hand slowly, steadily, and touches Jason's temple, saying, with triumph]
Jason.
[give him a minute to swallow the pure awe at seeing him this close, this big-- and in the freaking Robin costume, that's going to be a talking point, but]
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Date: 2025-11-04 04:57 am (UTC)It was Richard. The poke confirmed it and even though the casual mention of his name should have made him uneasy considering the circumstances, he only let out a peal of laughter of his own before he reached out to poke the mask right in the center of what should be his friend's forehead.]
What are you doing here? [A pause. A blink. A small glance around the expansive, alien darkness.] ...Where is here?
im sorry i replied fast PLEASE take all your time! i am in no rush ever i got excited...
Date: 2025-11-04 05:27 am (UTC)he goes crosseyed at the almost-touch, doesn't still and doesn't flinch like he would have because this is his friend, this is Jay.]
The sewer. Underground. Not supposed to be down here with us, Jay. [his tone a little more subdued, even though he's so, so happy to see him. happy, for once, a stolen moment down here] Fight with the Bat?
XD No worries. I've got a bit of umph tonight, apparently.
Date: 2025-11-04 05:40 am (UTC)It wasn't like the mask was hiding his identity from Richard, after all.
Stowing the mask in his belt, he winced as he gingerly rolled his joints to feel exactly how badly he was injured after the concrete waterslide from hell.]
Yeah. Got thrown off a walkway and apparently flushed. Need to get back up there, though. He needs my help!
[Did Bruce actually need his help? Probably not. But he liked to think he was at least a little useful. Even if he felt a little bit like a drowned rat as he unclipped his cape so he could bring it around and start wringing water out of it.]
How far down are we?
<33333
Date: 2025-11-04 06:09 am (UTC)Rest, first. [it's an echo of so long ago, tone a little more disapproving] Batman can handle. You handle this.
[kind of gestures to all of Jason, but doesn't go as far as to touch him again to see if he's hurt]
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Date: 2025-11-04 06:32 am (UTC)The itch was easily ignored when faced with the boy's all too familiar over protectiveness, however.
He snorted softly, rolling his eyes a little as he aimed a Look at his friend's direction as he staggered a little further away from the edge of the run off he'd managed to escape from. He wasn't heading for the door yet...but it was clear he had no plans on waiting for long.]
You can't disappear on me for years and then immediately go back to fussing, Richard. Come on, moving will warm me up. That water was freezing.
[He was pointedly not paying any heed to the many scrapes and oozing cuts on his bare arms and legs that were in clear view now that his cape was off and in his hands instead of around his shoulders.]
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Date: 2025-11-04 06:57 am (UTC)Hurt. Gonna get infected. Besides, I saw you.
[he means up there, his answer petulant beneath that muffled mask, beneath the ease of his long limbs at his side, following after the boy without another word.]
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Date: 2025-11-28 06:18 am (UTC)[He paused mid-step, half turning to eye his over protective companion. For a moment, it looked like he might actually stop. Maybe ask a few questions or take Dick up on his suggestion of medical attention...but then he was just wiping a trickle of red off his face from where it was trickling from a scrape at his hairline.]
So you know how to get back up there from here? Awesome, let's go.
[He was Robin. He'd been hurt way worse than this (He hadn't. Not yet) and he wasn't about to let a few scrapes or hypothermia keep him from helping people.]
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Date: 2025-11-28 07:07 am (UTC)Speaking of--]
Hurt. You're hurt.
[he'll show him the way up, but give him a second to yoink a strip of cloth from his uniform (hardly much cleaner) to dab at Robin's forehead]
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From:Entirely up to you if you want Dick to join them or slip back into the waterways.
From:gotcha!
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