mostdangerousbird (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mostdangerousbird) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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
With greetings exchanged, Godzilla steps ahead and makes his way over to the chicken coops. Opening them one by one, he greets the chickens with a honk. The hens are unbothered by the fact that the big lizard is coming by to take them out. They're pretty calm, actually, and know to stay relatively close to him while walking around and grazing. Godzilla himself seems proud and pleased; they're healthy and not skipping a beat.
And not nearly as alarmed by Godzilla as Tim, but the lizard doesn't blame him. He's used to that kinda look.
Gathering the hens together, he's prepared to take them out for their walk, but gives Tim a curious look and a nudge of his head. Wanna come along? It won't be exciting at all and that's exactly the point.)
no subject
Ugh, Tim is already feeling guilty about this. Bart's named the chicken. They're his pets. This is exactly why barnyard animals shouldn't be pets. If they get a name, it should be something like "Dinner." This isn't like not trying to save Titus or Krypto. They're chickens, not dogs. It's not worth going into a field with a shrunken kaiju that could grow back and squish Tim before he could even run. ]
no subject
The lot of them stay within eyesight, easily observed from a safe distance away. Picking a spot involves inspecting the ground, the lizard giving another little honk and the chickens doing what they do best. All the while, Godzilla himself sits on his haunches, waiting and observing like a scaly watchdog. He would also be quite sad if anything happened to the chickens, so he wards off predators by being the scariest predator around!
So scary that one or two chickens climb on him without fear.)
no subject
He doesn't go inside, however, and will continue to watch him like a hawk. ]
no subject
Godzilla does perk up suddenly, his senses picking up on something that doesn't belong. In particular, a curious coyote hungrily stalking one of the chickens. It doesn't get much time to do that before the guardian lizard steps in, standing between it and the chicken and giving a threatening growl. A snap of his teeth and the coyote quickly realizes even one of these chickens is absolutely not worth a tall, angry lizard and scampers off. A quick snort and he returns to a relaxed position.
That's pretty much the peak of today's excitement for him.)
no subject
But to do it without any real effort or rise - Tim had admittedly thought he was about to see something of a fight. For it to be that low stakes - to just let the coyote run off. It's not what Tim expected, and very much inline with Bart saying this is his friend. Huh. Maybe he doesn't need to be as alarmed by this. ]
no subject
Things aren't so bad to justify it, at least. Easily fixed with a roar every now and then. The chickens might appreciate a shift in location after that scare, so with a honk, he repositions the group a few meters away. He stops to count each of them and nods, content that they're all here. Good to go here! Now they can graze some more.)