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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
I'm not staying.
[Pop-Tarts are tempting... but no. She has a mission.]
no subject
So this is you checking up on me.
[ It’s not hurt or malicious; it’s blunt. He can be blunt with Cass. She knows when you’re beating around the bush before you even speak. It’s freeing.
There are other options, of course. Maybe she personally doesn’t want to stay, but Tim feels that’s unlikely given that she came out here in the first place. It could be an emergency, but she’d be pulling him out the window already and/or telling him to get Superboy.
No, he’s fairly secure in the decision that this is strictly an in-person wellness check because Cass knows that Tim wouldn’t have a video chat with her until he’d gotten over what happened. ]
no subject
Nope. [She pops the 'p'.
Then she reaches a hand out to him and uses her head to gesture to the window.]
Jailbreak.
[Tim is getting restless. He's hurt-inside but not outside. He needs to move. To leave. Staying here-- being trapped-- it will start hurting him more.
She doesn't want him to hurt anymore.]
no subject
Bruce, on the other hand - he's asked Bruce's blessing to return to his normal work and been refused. But Bruce isn't here, and Tim has never done well with indefinitely listening to him when he's being unreasonable.
But here's Cass, for a jailbreak. It's unreasonably tempting, and Tim is still suffering through his bout of unreasonableness.
(Trauma-induced, and likely why Bruce wants him to take a longer break.)
Tim finally turns on the light and starts throwing what clothes he's brought into his bag. Almost immediately stops. Looks at the door. ]
I should tell them.
[ It's almost a question. ]
no subject
Probably a good idea. Don't want Tim's friends to think he's been kidnapped... again.]
Leave a note?
[It's not like they'll be sup-rised. It's... more sup-rising he hasn't left already.
What's that phrase? Better to be forgiven than ask permission?]
no subject
Tim grabs a pen and paper and starts jotting down a note -
Guys
And that’s as far as he gets. Every possible way of explaining feels like he’s not appreciative of their support or lying about “wanting to get out” when he wouldn’t intend on coming back.
So he’s effectively stuck. Tim’s vanished before, but without a good reason, sneaking out in the middle of the night seems rude. Even if Kon does know. ]
B has my costume. I can’t go with you like this.
[ Blame that, rather than his own guilty feelings. ]
no subject
No costume. That's... frustration. No-- frustrating.]
I can... move you with me. Go somewhere without eyes. I'll change and you won't need your suit then.
[If Superboy was going to stop them he already would. Tim has a good reason for leaving. He wants to. Needs to. His friends know him-- know who he is. And they'll be able to find him.]
Do you want to stay?
no subject
[ This is the same decision as ever: how to Tim and Robin into the same time, space, body. Cass is oversimplifying it by acting like it’s a simple question of ‘do you want to stay’.
Of course he wants to stay. His friends are here, with offers of cocoa and non-threatening hugs. The reassurance that he’s trying to sleep down the hall from two people who could probably crack the world like an egg if it was necessary. They’re doing their best to help him through this, and he’s getting close to six hours sleep now. The fresh country air is only a little stifling.
He wants to leave. He’s missing a part of himself here. It’s the uniform, but more than that. It’s the purpose, the satisfaction of striving for perfection and being thorough resulting in success.
Tim wants both and that’s the one thing he can have. He can try to split the difference, anyway.
Guys -
I’ve gone out with Cass. There’s a not insignificant chance that “going out” means going back to Central City, but that will be a last minute decision.
I’ve got my phone. I’ll either be back before you read this or I’ll text you before
you wake upbefore I go to bed.Tim
He offers her the pen and notepad. ]
Do something I wouldn’t do and sign it, so they don’t think I went off alone.
no subject
They don't-- they aren't. But he won't hear that. Doesn't know how to believe it.
She takes the pen carefully, like it could explode at any moment.
Writing. Ugh.
In slightly shaky but meticulously uniform letters she writes a note of her own.]
gone
dirbirdwatchingXOXO cass
[(She thinks she's hilarious.)
She doesn't bother reading what Tim wrote. Too much effort. He's probably half-lying anyway. Trying to make his friends feel better. He always tries to make everyone feel better.
She hands the pen back.]
Ready?
no subject
And Cass came all this way to spring him, which is every bit as touching as his friends' concern with less constraints. Tim shoulders the bag. ]
Yeah. How does this work?
no subject
When the reach the shadows she stops, takes a breath, and steps in. Yanks Tim forward.
It feels... cold. And almost like running through cobwebs. But it's there-and-gone and when Cass finishes her step, her foot lands on pavement. It was a smooth motion for her. Tim's wrist is still in her hand.
Good. She wasn't sure that would work.
They've landed behind a gas station she scouted earlier in Little Love, in a place out of sight of any cameras.
She lets go and turns to Tim. She wants to see how he's doing.]
no subject
So he’s had experience with the disorientation and vague nausea that comes with superspeed and teleportation. Tim keeps his feet, but rubs his sternum to combat the cold, constricting sensation in his chest. Looks around, trying to place the location.
It’s fairly dark away from the front of the station’s convenience store, and he’s unfamiliar with the area, but he knows there’s no building that matches this in line of sight from Bart’s.
This power of Cass’s is good for more than sneaking in bedrooms. ]
How far out did you take us? Do you even know? Are we still in Kansas, Dorothy?
no subject
Gas station in town. No cameras, I checked.
[She unzips her batsuit to reveal her practical under-clothes: a sports bro and a pair of biker shorts. Nothing immodest.]
Still in Kansas, Toto.
[She doesn't say that she hasn't... brought someone along before. Or gone that far.
She grabs a small black backpack from behind the building's dumpster, opens it, and slips on a thin sweatshirt. Puts her suit inside.
She's getting better at this... "planning" thing.]
no subject
For now, Dorothy.
[ They're alone, and now that she's out of the suit, there's less to worry about. He still doesn't want anyone to bump into the two of them behind a gas station. ]
How many jumps do you think it will take until we're at the train?
no subject
She hasn't. So she shrugs.]
Wanna... find out?
[There's a challenge in her voice.]
no subject
Yes.
[ Obviously, in the absence of the Batcave, STAR labs, or anywhere else that might be experienced in stress testing metas, Tim is going to help her. ]
We should take it incrementally. Each teleport, you try to go 10% further. We can use the map function on my phone to track the distance.
[ He’s tapping at the screen as he says this. ]
Okay. Ready on your mark.
no subject
Cass knows where the train station is. How to get there from the gas station.
(Weird how they're both called "stations". Is it because cars and trains stop at them? People get in and out?)
It's not too far. Maybe... twice the distance from the farm to the gas station. A little more. She pictures the station in her mind. It'll be... not having a lot of people. She instinctively noted all the best vantage points when she walked through. The dark corners to hide in. The places to escape through.
There's a service corridor off of the place where people get on and off the train. The door was propped open by a brick. It's perfect.
She grabs Tim's arm.]
Mark.
[She steps forward. Pictures the doorway in her head. Focusing. Con-sent-trate-ing. The shadows meet her step. They cover them both. She closes her eyes.
Her foot makes contact on tile. She opens her eyes. Sees the propped-open doorway leading to the station. Grins. Turns to Tim.. She looks equally smug and excited.
Then the exhaustion hits. She stumbles, a little, losing balance. She's forced to lean against the wall.
She feels... empty. Drained. Tired. She can't collapse here. She needs to get Tim back. But her limbs are... heavy. Her insides ache. She groans.]
no subject
[ Tim's immediately there, concern apparent as dips his shoulder so she can lean on him instead. ]
You okay? I can get you on the next train, and, once we're onboard, then you can help me practice with my own ability. I heal other people, too, but... only if you want.
[ It's not immediately assumed that she'll let him. Tim doesn't blame anyone if they don't want to run the risk of an ability that physically interacts with their own body. ]
Has to be once we're onboard. It wears me out.
no subject
I'm fine.
[She goes to take a step. Stumbles. Needs to lean against the wall again. She should be fine. What's wrong with her? She's better than this.]
I'm fine.
[She's fine.]
no subject
[ He points further down the station, where there's a covered area of the platform. If they're going to jump the train, the roof of that is where they need to be.
Tim goes to scoop her up. ]
I'll carry you, and you can glare at me and tell me how fine you are.
no subject
Very fine.
[The way she leans on Tim is... not helping to prove her point.
Her body wants to rest. She can usually push through but... not right now. She'll have to wait until they get on the train.]
Maybe... I'll sleep on the ride back.