metalogs | i was born to hold my hands up (open)

( he doesn't see accelerator move towards him, but he hears it. hears him dropping down to the ground close by, feels him reach for his arm.

you need to get up.

how many times has jason told himself that? you need to get up. there is no other option. he can't stay down, he needs to get up. he can't let the pit destroy him. he can't let dying be the thing that pulls him apart. can't let bruce's rejection be the thing that breaks him. he has shit to do. a never-ending list of people who need help, of people who need someone like him, because sometimes batman just doesn't fucking cut it.

they're not in gotham right now. they're not under the league of assassins compound either, which is the only reason jason is still down. talia isn't here, ra's isn't chasing them down. he's drowning, he's breathing, he's out of the lazarus pit, it's not burning through him as intensely as it had once because he's--this happened years ago. he's fine.

you need to get up.

accelerator's a brat, and it shouldn't be on him to pull jason back together. he sucks in a breath. closes his eyes. tells himself to get up. pulls himself up to his hands and knees. takes in another breath. get up, and he's sitting up on his knees. he's still--younger, some of the scars that had been visible before aren't present, some of them look fresher, quickly healing as the lazarus water sets in. burns through him. he shoves shaking fingers through his hair. breathes. )

'm good.

( he isn't. he hasn't been good in a long time. but he's up, he's not falling apart, he's--fine. everything is fine. and he's reaching a hand out for accelerator, to ruffle his hair. )

Thanks, kid.

Edited 2023-08-01 20:06 (UTC)

[It's a hell of a lot easier to tell someone else to get up than to do it himself, and with how things are going it wouldn't surprise him if things got substantially worse if Jason stays down. Accelerator wouldn't blame him if he didn't, though. He knows what that's like.

(He's glad he isn't staying down, for what it's worth.)]

Tche. [Promptly letting go, he'll tolerate the hair ruffle, though he scowls at it and being called 'kid.' There has to be something in the city's water or something, this keeps happening and it's really irritating.

Worse than that, though, is getting thanked. Being treated like a child is one thing, being thanked is a whole other level of social discomfort and he looks away.]

I have no idea how you're good, let alone fucking functioning.

[Unless he's making an incorrect assumption and Jason isn't actually functioning, and just - he doesn't know - sleeping most of the time like he does or whatever. Buuuut somehow he doubts that's the case.]

What the hell is that pool?

Edited (I forgot I had a headpat icon lmaooooooo) 2023-08-01 23:41 (UTC)

( functioning is a strong word. but jason's too stubborn to let anything keep him down for long. he finds reasons to get back up. finds things to keep him moving, even when he doesn't feel like going anymore. he's tired, he wants it to end but he doesn't want to quit and he doesn't want to die which leaves him with--nothing. no options. just the endless struggle of trying his damn best only to fall straight onto his face again and have to spend time pulling himself back together.

he's not good. he's not quite functioning, but he's here. he's alive. he's survived more shit than he should have. taken bullets that should have killed him, bleed out all over the floor, fought people who were completely out of his weight class and still managed to win. jason doesn't quit, he fights for every moment he can get his hands on.

accelerator has enough shit on his hands already without jason--digging that deep into it. so he chooses not to respond at all to that bit, and instead angles himself towards the lazarus pit. to look at it. )

Lazarus Pit. Heals everything, but has the tendency to drive people mad.

( no point in lying when they're stuck in his worst reels. accelerator is a kid, but jason's spent enough time around him to know he isn't--a child. )

[Accelerator shifts back, sitting down properly. He still doesn't like where they are, but there isn't much he can do about it.]

Hm.

[Lazarus. He isn't religious, but he's aware of some Christian story about someone by that name being brought back to life. So is it some spiritual bullshit, or did some scientist just have a sense of humour...? Either way, more pieces are being put into place.]

So you came back, but that didn't fix the injuries your body had sustained? Not fully, at least. You still needed this - [He waves a hand at the pit.] - potentially at the cost of your mind.

[He's rolling through all of that matter-of-factly, since that's the easiest way for him to process all of this despite none of it being the least bit scientific. It occurs to him that a lot of things are adding up to Jason being a much more dangerous person than he had first thought. Yes, the duffle bag full of weapons and willingness to show a teenager how to both torture someone and use a firearm already scream dangerous, but the rest of this -

The trauma of being beaten to the point of brain damage, his mother's betrayal, the explosion, coming back from all of that but not all the way. Needing this pit, and whatever the hell kind of insanity trade-off it forced onto his mind....

Jason had said he came back angry. Accelerator is certain he came back a lot more than just angry.

He lets out a breath, kind of a laugh but not really.]

You're a goddamn monster.

( he is a monster, and jason's well-aware of it. he's an anomaly even by his world standards. most people, when they come back from the dead, have some reason behind it. someone knows how it happened, someone made it happen, but no one knows why the hell jason got out of his grave and started walking again. talia wouldn't have thrown him into the pit if he hadn't jumped out of his grave himself. he'd be dead still. but something pulled him back, and jason's--here, living, because of whatever it was that decided he needed to.

or at least, that's how jason's choosing to read into it. coming back for nothing would be too much. he needs purpose, he needs a reason, and him coming back to do what bruce couldn't is--the only reasonable explanation. )

Coming back didn't fix how fucked my body was, it just brought me back. I was catatonic. I -- ( there's no point in censoring himself. accelerator isn't jason, but he feels similar. he's older than his years in some ways, younger in others. he gets it. it's just what happens when your life's fucked up. ) I remember crawling out of my grave, I remember that first breath of fresh air, an' after that it's all just flashes. I was fucked up enough I wasn't ( pausing to pull in a breath through his nose. jason raises a hand up to shove the back of it against his cheek, wipes off some of the lazarus liquid dripping down from his hair. ) there anymore. The Pit fixed what was missing.

[It isn't tough for a monster to recognize a monster, though Accelerator usually only brings that up when he's being derisive towards some enemy he's about to destroy. Not when he's empathizing with someone.

He thinks it's accurate, especially when Jason doesn't argue against being called that. And he doesn't have any problems with it. Maybe if he was a good person he wouldn't but he isn't.

He's quiet as he listens to that explanation. It hits very, very close to home.]

Like your brain was missing a bunch of gears. [His tone is a bit quieter when he speaks again, and he taps the little rectangular box attached to his choker. His calculation assistance device.] That's what this fucking thing does for me. Without it I can barely move, I've got no sense of balance. I can't even sit up on my own. And I can't understand what's going on, whether that's through language or just trying to put two thoughts together. It fills in for what my brain's missing.

( funny how that works out, isn't it. jason finds a kid on the street beating some thugs up to get his hands on a new toy, and that kid--well. turns out to be even more similar than jason had originally anticipated. he's full of attitude, snarky as hell, and just as fucked up as jason himself is.

he hates it because it's shit. kids shouldn't go through this crap. no one should take a bullet to the head when they're as young as accelerator is. no one should have to suffer through the kind of shit he knows this kid has. that he had. the world is shit. every world is shit, and jason would know--he's seen several. and here is he, sitting in a place he only visits in his nightmares, while the kid tells him how fucked his own head is.

at least he got a computer to fix it, instead of a dip in the pit. jason wouldn't wish the pit on anyone. he still winces at the explanation, because it's--terrible, isn't it? having to live like that, dependent on something external to keep himself from collapsing in on himself. )

Yeah. ( he doesn't know what it was missing, that wasn't information he was let in on. there are scans of his head, somewhere in the league compound, but jason doesn't want to see them. doesn't want to know how fucked he was, how fucked he still is. sometimes, ignorance is bliss. accelerator doesn't have that luxury. jason pulls himself up to his feet proper, reaches a hand down for accelerator. ) Up. I don't wanna know what'll happen if we stick around here for long.

[The brain damage is something Accelerator has mostly accepted, since he's never had any other choice. When the gunshot happened he had assumed he'd just die. But no, that doctor did surgery on him, the Sisters agreed to something they never should have agreed to, and now he has to live with all of them being far too kind to someone who doesn't deserve it.

He doesn't think much about how his age enters into it. What happened happened, and he'll deal with it like he deals with every shitshow in his life - on his own.

That's how it's supposed to go, anyways. Accelerator has never been very good at getting along with other people, let alone empathize with them. There's been such a huge gap between himself, the strongest, and everyone else for so much of his life that any common understanding has been pretty much impossible.

Except that isn't how it's going. There's someone else here who has been some incredibly fucked up things, actually knows what it's like to have your brain damaged so badly that only extraordinary circumstances can bring you back to a semblance of your previous self. And he knows what it's like having to live with the consequences of those circumstances. It's really messed up, honestly. Even moreso that Accelerator is kind of glad for it. He knows how selfish that makes him, but he doesn't really like being alone.

Taking hold of his crutch, he grabs Jason's hand and hauls himself onto wobbly legs. Once he's got his crutch all situated he rubs the back of his head.]

Any idea on how to get the hell out of here?

[Or are things going to shift again? He hates dream logic, he hates it so much.]

No.

( he doesn't even know how he got in here. and not even in just--a dreaming sense, jason doesn't remember walking down this far to begin with. he vaguely remembers the run back up and the half mile they took to get to the ocean, but jason wouldn't be able to tell anyone the path he and talia ran either. he was a little busy coping from being thrown into the pit to handle remembering any of that.

but they'll figure it out. accelerator gets up to his feet, and jason waits until he has his crutch settled before he's wrapping an arm around his shoulders to help support him. he's still the same size as freshly out of the pit jason was, wearing a pear of loose cotton pants and nothing above the waist, but this is fine. he's got this. )

Guess we'll have to figure it out together, Ace. ( with a small curl to the corners of his lips; the hint of a grin, even if it never quite reaches as well as jason's usual smarmy expressions do. )

[It's all fine. Having been through the hell that is the rest of the dream (nightmare), Accelerator is at least certain that they can get through whatever's next. It would be too optimistic to hope that they'll just wake up, so he's prepared for more horror.

He doesn't move away from Jason, tolerating the extended physical touch. This is something that's still awkward to him and he's doing his best here. In fact, he's more tolerant of that than the nickname.

Accelerator inhales deeply.]

Even though you just crawled out of that trash I won't hesitate to punch you, you bastard.

[He's saying that, but he's getting the awful sneaking suspicion this is Leo and Donnie all over again. That he can grouse as much as he wants and it won't matter. This is just another nickname he's going to be stuck with.

Just another nickname he'll tolerate, since he's too soft to seriously push back.

He's going to start heading up the slope and away from the pool. Maybe the dream will shift again if they get too far away from it, or there'll be a tunnel up there. Or something.]

( the threat earns accelerator a laugh; it's short, bordering on being considered more of a cackle than anything else, but the smile that accompanies it is almost soft even if it doesn't quite fit jason's face. he's still smaller, more soft angles than the hard edges he'll eventually grow into, the ones he's accustomed to moving himself around with. but it's cute, the kid's attitude. jason gets it. if he'd shown up closer to the age he looks now, he'd have been as loudly bitchy as accelerator himself. luckily for both of them, while jason grew into his hard edges, learned to make himself big and scary, most know that for him--it's only skin-deep. he's a killer, someone who knows how to flay flesh from others' bones while keeping them alive as long as possible.

he's also an asshole who leans his weight into some little brat with a crutch, careful not to put so much onto him that it knocks him over as they walk away from the pit. )

Bring it on, runt. I'd like to see you try it.

[As irritated as Accelerator looks, he isn't actually planning on going through with that threat. Probably. It's just shit talking which, given Jason's laugh, he's picking up on. His own expression doesn't change, even as he starts leaning over a little. Without his ability he's just some skinny twig with no muscle mass.

Not that that's going to dissuade him.]

You wouldn't stand a fucking chance. Do you even have any kind of power, or are you stuck as some third-string using fists and guns?

[...... Says the kid who actively wants to learn how to use a gun........]

I'm just a guy with fists and guns.

( he has abilities now, but they're not ones jason's ever felt the need to lean on. the further they get away from the pit, the more blurry everything gets around the edges; they're veering out of the area jason's memory can fill in, but those blurred edges are also shifting into something--else. there's the smell of pollution, the sound of car horns, muffled yelling which doesn't fit in the cavern well at all. between one step and the next, jason shifts, too. he gains a good chunk of weight in muscle, the kevlar tank he's wearing has a black bat across the chest, and jason goes from leaning on accelerator to gently pulling him along. )

Doesn't mean I can't take you.

I doubt it.

[He knows that's total bullshit. The two people who've beaten him in a fight have been perfectly normal without any special abilities (aside from that Level 0's right hand, maybe). Jason probably could take him, even with his ability active.

But it's kind of fun to talk trash, regardless. He's the strongest esper in Academy City. Even if he isn't going around making his title known, it's not as if he's completely ignoring his status. He hasn't retired or anything.

He's noticed both Jason and their surroundings shifting around, and while he doesn't stop he looks around (inwardly glad Jason using using more of his weight to tease him because he'd for sure lose that battle).]

This where you're from?

[It could just be Central City, though. Or some other craphole American city? It could be that, it's not like Accelerator has been to many cities in the States before, he has no idea how similar they are.]

( as they keep walking, the blurred edges sharpen, and they're no longer near the lazarus pit, but in crime alley. jason stops, lips pressed tight together as he looks around. there's a woman wearing a very revealing red slip against the wall beside the theater, cigarette between her lips as she speaks to an extremely sleezy looking man who's standing a little too close to her--but jason's focus is down the alley a little further in, on an open door. )

Gotham City. ( a loose lift of his shoulders, as he finally releases accelerator and pulls himself up straight. gropes along the outside of his jacket, searching for--something in his pockets. ) Born an' raised.

( gunshots ring out clear as day from deeper in the alley. a woman screams, another man curses, a bottle drops from one of the higher open windows. there's the sound of kids running around and laughing, but there aren't any kids visible. )

[It's nice to get out of that cavern. Is a crappy city a step up? Accelerator isn't sure. It reminds him a little of Central, so there's that.

When Jason lets go of him Accelerator takes a step or two away absently, gazing at their surroundings, only briefly watching the man and woman. It takes him an extra half second to catch onto what's probably happening there, and when he realizes it he continues looking around indifferently.

The sound of the gunshots causes him to reach up to his choker, resting a finger against the switch and ready to change modes if necessary. Better to be cautious in case they have to deal with anyone wielding any firearms.]

Seems like a shithole.

No one's gonna shoot you, 'less this goes way off.

( he doesn't know what the hell the collar's for, but he can recognize the moments when accelerator goes for it. jason pulls a switchblade from his jacket. offers it over on a flat palm. who knows if it'll keep when it's off his person, logic doesn't seem to apply here, but just in case--knives are useful, accelerator might want one here. )

The door up there leads to a few ratty old apartments. We'll walk into mine, an' there'll be a body on the floor in the bathroom. Dead long enough to be firmly dead, but not long enough for rigor mortis to set in.

[Really, his first question should be, "Why are we going to look at a dead body?" or even "Can we skip the dead body?" Even outside of this being a dream, a normal person would be a little overwhelmed by having to experience this on top of everything else.

Accelerator has seen a lot of dead bodies in his short life.

He clicks his tongue, dropping his hand from his choker to take the knife instead. It's better than nothing, and if there's no threat of being shot he might as well save his battery.]

That's specific. [That, along with it being Jason's apartment, clearly means nothing good.]

I know what my head's doing.

( ish. jason's not moving any closer to the specified door--if anything, he's moving away from it. he takes a few steps back, then turns towards the nearest alley wall. no need to continue forward when nothing's forcing him to just yet, is there? especially because, )

It's my mom. Not my. . birth mother, but the one who raised me. She OD'd.

[That makes as much sense as the rest of this, so he gives a small shrug and follows after Jason. He isn't in any rush to go see a dead body, and when Jason clarifies just who it is things make a bit more sense.]

... Oh.

[Accelerator has no experience with mothers. He can't remember anything about his own, and doesn't feel much of anything when he tries thinking about her. He doesn't, most of the time. There's no point.

He only has a little more experience with overdosing. Academy City would like to claim any and all drug therapies the espers undergo is strictly controlled and regulated, but he knows that's a load of bullshit. Shady research facilities like the one he grew up in ran all kinds of tests with that crap to try and force the development of secondary abilities, and the city's underworld makes things like Body Crystal available to anyone who can pay. Overdosing happens, a lot more than the city would ever admit.

It takes him a few seconds to figure out what to do, if anything. He frowns faintly.]

Sorry.

Over a decade ago now, so.

( it's not an it's fine, because it's not and it never will be, but it's about as nonchalant as he's going to be able to get here. jason turns to press his back against the alley wall, leans in against it. it's clearly disgusting, gum sticking to it in multiple places, spray paint spelling out every expletive, chalk drawings down lower, scratches where objects had been dragged across the walls and broken chunks of glass over the cement just in front of it. jason ignores it.

keeps his attention on accelerator instead, eyes narrowed as he watches him. )

's nothing a kid like you should be worrying about.

( should be, he says, because he knows he was younger than accelerator when he found her. he knows kids shouldn't worry about this shit, but a lot of 'em end up stuck in situations where they have to. where they're left with little choice, because the world doesn't give a shit if they're six, sixteen, or sixty--it takes regardless. )

[So it's been long enough for him to have put some distance between himself and what happened. That's... good? Accelerator supposes it's possible for people to be able to do that, or at least go numb to a situation like that.

He shifts, making sure that the feet of his crutch avoid crunching on any glass down on the ground. 'Shithole' is definitely accurate, 'depressing shithole' even moreso when he notices the chalk drawings. He's still frowning faintly, overall pretty calm.]

Well, it's not going to be the first dead body I've seen before.

[He's used to them, and he's seen (and caused) a lot more violent deaths than an overdose, so he isn't particularly concerned about himself.]

Wasn't my first or my last. Doesn't mean you should see 'em anyway.

( jason's dreams are almost always a storm of broken promises, of night terrors built to tear him down over and over again. of everything yelling at him to fight to get up to push and push and push until he can't push anymore, trying to shove him over until he gives up, gives in, lets himself down. he doesn't often remember them like this; not with the kind of clarity one does their own memories, not unless it's joker, but he remembers the emotions. the guilt eating at him, the despair, fear, anger, and everything else in between. he'll remember finding his mothers body again, but doesn't remember where it goes from there. if it goes, or if it just sits in that moment until he wakes up, or if it's--sudden, like it can be when he dreams of the pit. how he'll remember flashes of it and wake up in a cold sweat as if he'd just climbed out of it once more.

doesn't care to find out, not with this kid here. and if it hadn't been just a dream, he definitely wouldn't want to drag accelerator deeper either. his head is a fucked up mess, no one belongs here--especially not this brat.

and maybe getting the time to stand here and--breathe is what they need anyway. maybe his head isn't being an asshole. maybe, maybe if they're lucky, them being outside rather than deposited straight in the apartment is a sign: that this is a breather, that if they stay here long enough maybe it'll all just end. maybe it's lulling them into a false sense of security, making them think they can relax only to wait for them to relax only to throw them in even deeper. pulling up jason's childhood bullshit is never good--because most of his bullshit, everything after bruce had taken him in--that's all public record. everyone jason knows, knows he was robin. knows he died tragically. knows he came back angry. knows the shit he'd pulled with the other robins, how he'd tried to break bruce. but this moment here - this is more private. people know his mother died, know she od'd, but the details from this period of his life were harder for bruce to dig into and put into neat little files.

maybe it's trying to fuck him up further. maybe it's sharing shit most people don't know, the shit he hasn't spat out in anger at everyone he could potentially blame, even a little bit. maybe if he keeps getting stuck thinking about it, the paranoia's going to eat him up first and it'll tear through barriers meant to keep him guarded. maybe he needs to quiet his head.

lips part just enough to suck in a breath through his teeth, and jason pushes away from the wall. moves to head out of the alley, because fuck it. )

[With that remark comes the irritatingly familiar frustration of being treated as a child. Accelerator is fairly sure he's never going to get used to that, no matter how often it happens in this world. The adults here are just intent on that, it seems. It's like a damn world full of Yomikawas. Completely different than back home, though deep down he's aware that comparing the hundreds of scientists that feared him as a monster or a guinea pig against adults who have no desire to conduct inhumane experiments on children isn't fair.]

..... [He follows after Jason, the feet of his crutch clacking on the ground.] Nice sentiment, but that's just the direction I've taken my life. Nothing anyone can do about it.

[He doesn't want to harangue Jason for not just going along with the path the dream seems to be laying out. No one could blame the guy for trying to avoid seeing his mother's dead body, and if he tries to force things along in another direction Accelerator isn't going to stop him. That could very well work, there isn't really any way of knowing without trying.

But, like Jason, this wouldn't be the first dead body he's ever seen. And it won't be the last. Thinking that could change at all is ridiculous. A life free of violence isn't a life he's capable of living.]

You've been walking through my shit for--( hours? days? decades? it feels like forever and seconds in the same breath, and jason hates that too. he doesn't finish the sentence, just lifts his shoulders in a loose shrug as he keeps walking. gotham is--clear, the street signs are visible and readable. jason knows his city well, and it reflects in how he sees it inside his head, too. ) I know you know. You can get into whatever the hell you want to, I ain't gonna try and stop you. But doesn't mean you gotta see shit in my head.

( not after what he's already seen. none of this is anything jason would have been comfortable sharing in that - amount of detail. he hasn't even gotten into it with dick for christsakes. not intentionally. )

Sorry 'bout -- ( a wide gesture with his hand, around the city. all of this, it seems to say. )

i was born to hold my hands up (open)

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