metalogs | [OPEN/CLOSED] A Robin came a-knockin’

Entry tags:

[OPEN/CLOSED] A Robin came a-knockin’

Who: Jason Todd

robintohood and you
What: Jason’s been deaged back to his early Robin years. Antics ensue. Also contains one special closed prompt
When: January 3rd-4thish, during the age swap event
Where: Central City
Content Warnings: None for now. Will edit if needed.

[Somewhere in Central City is a small boy in a red, yellow, and green costume. It’s hard to forget someone in a colorful suit like that.

That is, assuming you can catch a good enough look at him. He’s effortlessly using his grappling gun and parkour skills to swing around and jump rooftops. You might see him as he tries to get a lay of the land.

Alternatively, you might see him fearlessly (or recklessly, depending on how you look at it) pounce right on top of a would-be armed mugger. He might not know where he is but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop fighting crime. It’s what any good sidekick would do.]

Attic Safehouse above the Descendant Bar (Closed to people who use the safehouse)

[Later that night, Robin is exhausted but isn’t ready to trust just any place to rest for the night. For now, he’s just perched on top of the Descendant, near the attic window]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A large hand strokes the toddler's back, reassuring as best they can, continuing to murmur softly even as they start to turn towards the other kid. The furtive movement is definitely a sign that the costumed one is about to start some kind of trouble.

"May I ask what you think you're doing?" they ask in a slightly louder voice.

Shit. Spotted too soon. That was stupid. Mentally swearing at himself, Jason reveals himself at the window. One hand is balled up and holding onto the pellets.

"Felt like having a nighttime stroll. What's tall, dark, and goopy doing with a baby?" He replies defiantly.

"Trying to get my brother to sleep. He's had an exhausting day," they say, considering the kid. He smells like...

Hmm. Jason. This is interesting.

"Besides, like you said, the bar is closed. Not to mention you being underage."

"Brother, right," Jason says in a disbelieving flat tone. "Seems a lot more solid to me."

Are they a new Clayface? Jason hadn't fought any of them before but he's read their files and has some idea what he might face. Maybe he stands a chance to at least get the kid away from them.

"You try waking up a dozen or more years younger than you were the day before and see how you feel," Sleeper says. Then they sigh.

"Whatever you have in your hand probably won't work, anyway. So why don't we talk instead?"

If it weren't for the high risk of hurting the toddler, Jason would've attacked Sleeper by now. What they just said doesn't make any sense either. More magic? There's still so much Jason doesn't know in this strange city. Bruce said a lot of their work involves patience and that he needs to practice it more. So Jason doesn't attack.

He remains on his guard though and keeps his distance.

"Okay, fine. What are you anyway?"

"You may call me Sleeper. I am...not from this world. The boy is Dylan, my brother, as I said," they explain, not wanting to say the word symbiote because in their case, it's a bit of a misnomer.

"Have you seen the library here yet?" Because even if this Jason doesn't know them, they probably still like literature, right?

"Where?" Jason asks, unaware of the Descendant's reading room. "Are you a shapeshifter? Is that why your brother looks human?"

He has to consider all possibilities. Hell, Sleeper wouldn't even be the first alien shapeshifter he's heard of.

"Technically, in the bar, but since it's closed and all. And yes, I can change my shape. And my brother is human. Mostly," they explain, a little tired of the last question. "It's complicated."

Things usually are with their family.

"What do you want me to call you. Can't go with Mr. Darcy this time. You don't look old enough for that kind of romance."

Jason scoffs. It's so easy for people to underestimate him.

"I'm old enough. I know he's the main male character fromPride and Prejudice by Jane Austen," he replies confidently. He only recently started reading the novel. "And the name's Robin, not Mr. Darcy. What do you mean by 'this time?'"

They make an obvious sniffing sound, despite not having an obvious nose.

"Less motor oil, but you still smell like Jason Todd, my favorite book club buddy."

They turn and start leading the way to the reading room, figuring the quiet environment and soft chairs will be good for Dylan, too, even if he isn't going to be touching any of the books if Sleeper has a say about it.

It still doesn't make sense what Sleeper is saying. Evidently they recognizes his scent but Jason won't cop to his real identity to someone he doesn't trust. That can be a deadly mistake to make.

Still, he follows them to the reading room. At the very least he can't lose sight of the kid.

"Don't know who you're talking," he says in a nonchalant tone. "What kind of books do you read?"

Know thy enemy, right?

"Of course not. You wouldn't know anything about that," they say, clearly humoring him. How one can tell a giant ooze thing is amused is hard to say, but they clearly are.

"Well, the other night we read The Little Prince, and we've done a lot of other classics."

Sleeper seems perfectly fine with letting Robin be at his back, but then, they don't have to rely on ordinary senses. Once they hit the reading room, they turn on some of the softer lights and pick a nice recliner to curl up with the kid, their form melting into something more feline, but still large enough to surround Dylan like a blanket, the fistfuls of substance not budging in his hands. They're still more panther-sized than housecat, but not so toothy as they might be.

The toddler's cries have more or less settled down now, replaced with tired sniffling and cooing as his emotional distress still makes sleep difficult. Still, Dylan manages to turn his head and get a good look at the new guest.

He hadn't picked up on the kid being Jason — not until Sleeper said it. Though there's something about the outfit he's wearing that's tugging on the edge of his memory... but not a memory about Jason. He turns it over in his head, but can't quite nail where he's seen it before.

Whatever. He's too tired to worry about it.

When Sleeper settles into the recliner and shifts their shape, Dylan's cradled by the flow of the symbiote goo and settles next to his sibling. Sleepily, Dylan looks over at Jason again, then snuggles in closer with his sibling.

Warm and safe and exhausted, it seems sleep is finally going to claim him. As his eyes flutter shut, his thumb slips in his mouth, and he drifts away.

Jason watches with interest as Sleeper adjusts their shape and the toddler makes himself comfortable to go to sleep. It's a strange scene to witness but nothing about it seems hostile for now. If Sleeper is a Clayface, then they're probably the gentlest so far. He just has to keep vigil.

"The Little Prince is a good book," Jason says. "Do you have any favorite books?"

"Frankenstein strikes a lot of familiar chords, and I'm fond of The Scarlet Pimpernel. Austen, of course, and the Brontes. I've got very little patience for most modern stuff. Too many tropes, not enough depth."

They nuzzle the kid, a low purring thrum added to the sounds of the room

"What about you?"

"I got a lot of favorites," Jason replies. Again, it's the truth. It's just what happens when one is a bookworm. "Little Prince, Secret Garden... I only started reading Austen but so far I like Pride and Prejudice."

He watches Sleeper and hears the purring.

"Ever read anything by T.S. Eliot?"

"If you are implying I might be a proper Jellicle Cat, we might have to have words," they warn, but it's with a clear smile.

Jason giggles and smiles back.

"Gotta make sure! The definition for one seems pretty loose," he says. "For one thing, none of the poems said they couldn't have four eyes."

"I'm not human, I'm not exactly a cat, so why not make it obvious I don't feel the need to blend into the background? And it definitely helps in the bar. People who can't decide if they're seeing straight or not cut themselves off instead of the staff having to work at it."

Jason giggles again, imagining winos stumbling while they stare at Sleeper's four eyes.

"Yeah, must be. So you're an employee here?"

"Well, not officially. I just help where I can when I'm in town," Sleeper says, not really willing to get into why they don't live here and why the commute isn't something they do easily.

"It's more I'm a friend of the owner."

"Some friend," Jason murmurs as he slowly walks and looks through the bookshelves. "I haven't really heard of a bar with a reading room before."

Granted, while Jason knows more about bars than most kids his age, he's never visited one without Bruce. And with him, it's only to ambush the criminals lurking there.

"It's a place for quiet relaxation. Sometimes that's what people want. A really expensive glass of something and a good book," Sleeper says, shrugging a little.

"I can't say I really understand why you humans have a fondness for the voluntary ingestion of toxins."

Jason giggles.

"Well, sometimes the spicy stuff is worth it."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject