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metalogs2022-07-24 01:23 pm
mostdangerousbird) wrote in metalogs2022-07-24 01:23 pm
[OPEN] When the cure's as bad as the cold.
Who: Tim Drakemostdangerousbird
What: Robin is lovingly and semi-willingly forced to get out of Central City toget the fuck out of Joker's way recuperate in Little Love
When: Approximately July 4-20ish
Where: In and around Little Love, and the guild residence of Bart Allen
Content Warnings: Possible discussion of the Joker, assault, and mental health.
[ OOC: These are meant to be loose scenarios rather than absolutely precise starters. If you can't figure out a way to bounce off one of them, please let me know and I'll do something more direct for you. ]
The First 72 Hours
[ He is a predictably bad patient, made worse by the fact that his body's newfound ability to heal has him semi-mobile even before he's even brought to Little Love. Tim isn't trying to consciously self-sabotage the healing process, but he hasn't let himself fall asleep since he got here, although he knows that he'd heal more if he did. The ibuprofen and caffeine supplies are going down quickly, when no one's looking.
Retreats to the guestroom are strategic, and Tim doesn't bother to pretend otherwise to friends. Any excuses would result in offerings of alternative solutions or arguments, and he wants neither.
What he wants is distraction or escape from his own head. When all else fails, he wants to curl up where he can't be observed. For the first few days, Tim swings unpredictably between the two.
If it's the former, he can be found anywhere on the grounds of Bart's little farm at all hours. While he'll stick close to the house, he won't run inside if someone drops by for a visit. He won't run anywhere, actually, because Tim's trying to mask the limp, but he also won't resist any idea or hug. He's using up all of his spoons on covering up the worst of the damage: everything else is pliant drifting through the day. ]
Day 3-10
[ Tim is increasingly feeling cooped up. Yes, worse than the chickens. Yes, he gets it - he's a birdie too, ha ha.
(HaHAhaHAhA)
He can't sit still, and so spends a lot of time walking around Little Love, now that he's healed enough to not limp. Most of the time, there's at least one friend with him, but not always. The town is fine, in a stereotypically small Midwest town sort of way. He's never lived anywhere where the downtown was practically one intersection, and the houses are all singles. The tall building is 5 stories, and a bunch of side streets don't have a sidewalk.
Really, he feels a bit like Spock on an away mission, especially when he encounters a buckeye at the local greasy spoon, or that the bakery is closed on the weekends. Huh. The library, too, is so much smaller than he's used to, although the librarian is kind enough to offer to get the books in from the big branch in the nearest city.
Maybe you find him looking perplexed, as a farmer tries to explain why the cornfield on the right side of the street is superior to the left side.
Maybe you find him reading and re-reading a flier for a kegger on the riverbank with an increasingly furrowed brow.
Maybe you try to forcibly piggy-back him home because he hasn't slept in 32 hours over his protests that, really, this is not necessary. ]
Day 11-14
[ But after awhile, Tim is just done with this town and desperately seeking a signal that it's safe to go back to Central City, where he can get espresso at 2 am and no one will judge him.
He's still venturing out, but more time is spent aggressively typing away at something on his laptop rather than making friends with the locales. Back to the wall, privacy film on the screen, one key window-swapping sort of typing. His conversations increasingly revolve around when he gets home and how he's starting to feel like taking this much vacation will lead more work when he returns. ]
mostdangerousbird What: Robin is lovingly and semi-willingly forced to get out of Central City to
When: Approximately July 4-20ish
Where: In and around Little Love, and the guild residence of Bart Allen
Content Warnings: Possible discussion of the Joker, assault, and mental health.
[ OOC: These are meant to be loose scenarios rather than absolutely precise starters. If you can't figure out a way to bounce off one of them, please let me know and I'll do something more direct for you. ]
The First 72 Hours
[ He is a predictably bad patient, made worse by the fact that his body's newfound ability to heal has him semi-mobile even before he's even brought to Little Love. Tim isn't trying to consciously self-sabotage the healing process, but he hasn't let himself fall asleep since he got here, although he knows that he'd heal more if he did. The ibuprofen and caffeine supplies are going down quickly, when no one's looking.
Retreats to the guestroom are strategic, and Tim doesn't bother to pretend otherwise to friends. Any excuses would result in offerings of alternative solutions or arguments, and he wants neither.
What he wants is distraction or escape from his own head. When all else fails, he wants to curl up where he can't be observed. For the first few days, Tim swings unpredictably between the two.
If it's the former, he can be found anywhere on the grounds of Bart's little farm at all hours. While he'll stick close to the house, he won't run inside if someone drops by for a visit. He won't run anywhere, actually, because Tim's trying to mask the limp, but he also won't resist any idea or hug. He's using up all of his spoons on covering up the worst of the damage: everything else is pliant drifting through the day. ]
Day 3-10
[ Tim is increasingly feeling cooped up. Yes, worse than the chickens. Yes, he gets it - he's a birdie too, ha ha.
(HaHAhaHAhA)
He can't sit still, and so spends a lot of time walking around Little Love, now that he's healed enough to not limp. Most of the time, there's at least one friend with him, but not always. The town is fine, in a stereotypically small Midwest town sort of way. He's never lived anywhere where the downtown was practically one intersection, and the houses are all singles. The tall building is 5 stories, and a bunch of side streets don't have a sidewalk.
Really, he feels a bit like Spock on an away mission, especially when he encounters a buckeye at the local greasy spoon, or that the bakery is closed on the weekends. Huh. The library, too, is so much smaller than he's used to, although the librarian is kind enough to offer to get the books in from the big branch in the nearest city.
Maybe you find him looking perplexed, as a farmer tries to explain why the cornfield on the right side of the street is superior to the left side.
Maybe you find him reading and re-reading a flier for a kegger on the riverbank with an increasingly furrowed brow.
Maybe you try to forcibly piggy-back him home because he hasn't slept in 32 hours over his protests that, really, this is not necessary. ]
Day 11-14
[ But after awhile, Tim is just done with this town and desperately seeking a signal that it's safe to go back to Central City, where he can get espresso at 2 am and no one will judge him.
He's still venturing out, but more time is spent aggressively typing away at something on his laptop rather than making friends with the locales. Back to the wall, privacy film on the screen, one key window-swapping sort of typing. His conversations increasingly revolve around when he gets home and how he's starting to feel like taking this much vacation will lead more work when he returns. ]
no subject
"That shithole you and Kon call an apartment isn't the kind of place that screams rest and relaxation," he teases. But it's their choice, and he doesn't blame it. "I figure the least I can do is let you have a little space that is fairly secure and off the general radar. Even if Joker knew we were all here, what would be in it for him to attack a place so...American Gothic?"
There wasn't an drama in it, no pizazz. It was probably about as safe as they could get without falling off the grid entirely.
"I remember what it was like when Deathstroke shot me. When Bedlam tried to use me to rewrite the universe. And you...you're a lot stronger than I've ever been. Better at this."
no subject
He’d thought he didn’t have to with Bart, who was gloriously gifted when it came to being able to push through and overcome. Tim had thought Bart would understand that… that they weren’t going to comment on Tim’s injuries. They’ll heal eventually, like it never happened.
“Bart, you can’t really think he wouldn’t jump at the chance to attack if he knew I was here with my best friends?” Tim doesn’t want to talk about this, but he can’t let Bart persist in thinking he’s of no interest to the Joker. “You’re a target because you’re my friend. If he could set up something where he’d turn another Robin into a killer, he’d do it. He thinks it’s funny when he destabilizes Batman’s allies.”
no subject
"He'd attack, yeah, but out here? Without cameras and cannon fodder to hand? Yeah, he thinks it's funny when he ruins us, but he doesn't exactly do subtle."
Bart has concerns, but he is pretty certain he doesn't have to worry about an armed mob showing up in clown masks or a surprise shipment of Jokerfish.
"The only reason I didn't try to go over every inch of that ship before it got destroyed was a feeling that I'm not skilled enough to spot the inevitable trip-wires that would have set it off before schedule. And sending a scout to do it would have been even worse. But none of this is on you. Not on you alone."
no subject
They were definitely not hiding.
Tim sips at the cocoa. He wants to pick apart everything Bart said. Argue that he knows Bart’s good enough to have pulled it off. Catalog an exhaustive list of the mistakes Tim made. Spin out the plans Joker could be enacting right now.
Even thinking about it makes the cocoa ripple in the mug. Tim sets the mug down quickly. “It’s really good, but it’s too hot.”
Saying nothing else is almost as bad as arguing, but it’s less tiring. He feels so wrung out. It’s enough of an acknowledgment that he’s here, right? If he listens and doesn’t respond to debate, then they’ll assume he’s capitulating.
no subject
He knows he could probably use a little extra sleep, too. It's the one thing he can't speed through. Asleep, he's just as slow as anyone else.
"Prodigy taught me. I thought it was a good thing to learn while everyone was trying to figure out where you were. The feed from the place where he left your gear barely gave us a start. B has your bike, too. Didn't want to just leave it on the streets."
no subject
Tim pulls up a knee and tries to nonchalantly rest his chin on it and let himself to grip his ankle like a stress toy. “It’s kind of early for bed.”
He knows, intellectually, that unconsciousness and sleep aren’t the same, but the idea of falling asleep -
being helpless -
And having to come to in unfamiliar surroundings again… to say that he dreads it isn’t an exaggeration.
No. He’s not tired. He’s woken up so many times in the past few days. Surely, he doesn’t have to wake up until at least Wednesday. There’s so much to do. “I’ve got to finish my hot cocoa and get some more analysis done. Just because I’m in Kansas doesn’t mean I’m on vacation.”
His free hand picks up the mug again. Sips a few times. “I wish B didn’t have my bike.”
no subject
He doesn't want to be unfair. He knows Tim won't let this rest, and he doesn't really want him to. They need to get Joker contained, to keep this world from learning exactly what kind of monster was among them.
"I don't expect you to take a vacation. But I do want you to let yourself recover. You know better than I would what can happen if you are less than 100% when we find this clown."
no subject
Since Alfred was murdered, but Bart wouldn’t know about that. Tim packs that particular thought away for some other time (like never).
Tucks away the one about this likely making Bruce knuckle down harder after Dick having such a target on his back. That’s what’s going on at home. It doesn’t matter here. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll recover, but he’s not going to let me help with the Joker, especially not now that - that happened. He’ll keep the bike to keep me out of it so I don’t react like Jason.”
Tim feels like he failed in not spotting the trap, in not escaping sooner - and unlike a normal job, the stakes here were huge. And almost disastrous. And his boss is his adoptive father, who has incredibly high standards for Robins.
It’s so hard to differentiate not meeting the mark from not letting his family down. It feels like he did and will continue to feel that way until Tim feels like he’s earned approval again, somehow. He can’t admit to that, though. Bart would rightfully dismiss it as Tim not seeing this clearly. “Do you think he’d accept bike would let me get chilli dogs as rationale to release it?”
no subject
This isn't about that, not really. "He knows you're not Jason. And trust me, while he wasn't pleased to know you'd been taken, he didn't lose hope. And you helped, a lot. We would never have found the boat without you keeping him talking while everything happened."
It was the name and the target that had narrowed the search parameters enough to get the right ship.
no subject
If Bart can see through it, Bruce certainly can. Tim sighs and slumps towards Bart a little. There’s a heavy expectation to address what his friend’s said about how much Tim helped. Maybe it’s not intentional, but it’s there. It colours everything.
And he just wants to argue that he never should’ve been there. None of it would’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten sloppy in the warehouse. The Joker wouldn’t have gone to the trouble without a Robin. He deserves negative credit. “The other Batman and Jason kept him talking. I wasn’t.”
no subject
"I wish I could say the right things. You know I'm no good at people." He thinks with his heart, and is more likely to say the wrong thing, or at least something that doesn't fit. "But I don't know what to do to help you, and between Jason and Bruce, things are probably not looking very bright for anyone who might know anything. We'll fix this."
no subject
Maybe Bart's not good at all people, but he's at least good at Tim, in this moment. "You don't have to say anything. Do anything. I don't want to talk about that, anyway. We can just name the chickens. Or you can tell me how to make cocoa."