Say what you mean/say anything.
Because it needs to be.
He lords over one of Gotham's bridges with his legs thrown atop of the edge, dangling high above the thin layer of ice and unbothered by the cold. It's been a mild Christmas, save for the first two weeks of December. If one took away the colour, this could be a silent movie with all of it's blacks and whites.
No red lights from the boats out on the ocean.
"Dude," he hears. "You're hard to find. You weren't talking."
"I have no one to talk to," Robin states, accepting the presence of the one who has just landed behind him.
"Was that a burn, because if you want me to leave you'll have to be more blunt, Rob."
"Not a burn," Robin states, rubbing at his chin. Or, well, if he thinks about it. No, not a burn. Just an observation, though he would appreciate silence tonight. Heavy, solid silence that could someday be sacredly understood and loved, instead of borne tirelessly. With secrets.
"Thought you'd at least be hanging out doing Christmas Eve things. Your butler had hot chocolate on the stove and had to offer me some because nobody was drinking it. Said you'd be patrolling or expecting terrorists or something. I went looking for trouble."
Robin shrugs his shoulders, wondering if the other had had any of Al's cocoa. What would be the best way to tell?
No, he shakes his head. Not now.
It can't be more than a few degrees below freezing. His breath still clouds but he hardly feels it.
The warmth of the other could overthrow suns.
"This is like that stupid movie about the bridge and the guy jumping," continues Robin's guest, probably uncomfortable with the silence. "You could be trying to convince people not to jump."
"How many did you catch on your way over?" Robin asks.
"Two," comes the answer, quite instinctively. "And...wait. Shut up."
"Merry Christmas," Robin sighs, dragging a hand along the back of his neck. He has a scarf shoved into one of his belt compartments in case a wind picks up. If there isn't a breath of it from up here, Robin's pretty certain the rest of the night will be tame. "Just wait until the bars do last call."
"Is this why you're out here, moping instead of celebrating the season? It's Christmas, man. Time for family and settling in."
"Family," Robin laughs, and then grows still.
"Oh. Geez, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Dude, that was...I'm horrible."
Robin glances over his shoulder, feeling himself slide a bit on the metal girding, high above the lonely bridge. The expression he sees is sincere and it makes him want to take back his dry humour. He had in fact been baiting his friend, even if it had been unknowingly done.
It makes him feel guilty for his guilt.
"Hey," he murmurs, shifting so that he's directed more at his companion. "It's fine. Really."
If he reaches up, he can strip off the mask and really mean what he says.
He holds his perch cautiously, instead. "I am glad you came all the way out. That you tried to find me."
"Dude, I thought for sure that you'd be sending my sorry ass home. I know I'm a jerk."
"No," Robin shakes his head. "You're not. In fact, earlier tonight there was a B n' E at a jewelery shop. Shattering glass, and the sound of it made me..."
"Yeah?"
Think of you.
The ship lurches, drawing the figure on deck out of a deep revere.
"Tim," he hears. "You're hard to find."
"Uh?" he turns, watching the dark shape disentangle itself from the darkness. "I was meditating."
"Oh," he is answered; new companion leaning against the guard rail as if they are soon to start bonding. Tim will have to see it first to believe it, though. It makes him..."Guess we won't be seeing stars out tonight. It's just clouded and cold, which really doesn't make this Christmas stand out, does it?"
"No," answers Tim, searching for some sincerity in the words. Some interest. It's all...so very well feigned. "Not here. Maybe in Gotham."
"Gotham's in good hands," he's reassured. "Dick's looking after things."
"Yeah," hums Tim. A moment. "Dick."
"I'm going back to train," Tim is told, an awkward pause later.
"Merry Christmas," Tim says to himself, not calling it out after his guardian.
A million miles from nowhere, his spot on the sea is marked only by the dull glow of the green starboard marker. If he tries hard enough, he can't be found.
If he tries hard enough, he can pretend he hears bells.
Postal Service's The District Sleep's Tonight
♠
And also, some of the only Christmas music worth hearing. (solarayze, lemme know if any of these is that song you had been telling me about.)
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's An Angel Came Down
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's O Come All Ye Faithful/O Holy Night
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's A Star to Follow
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's First Snow
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's The Silent Nutcracker
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's A Mad Russian's Christmas
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's The Prince of Peace
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12-24
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Ornament
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Good King Joy
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's The First Noel
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Old City Bar
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Promises To Keep
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's This Christmas Day
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's An Angel Returned
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's O Holy Knight
Enjoy. My "I'll only upload a few songs about the angel" turned into pretty much the entire album. I still demand that you all go out and purchase the real deal. It's worth it.
I hate Christmas songs. I hate them as much as Prime hates Tim having friends, so basically...SCREW CHRISTMAS SONGS! The Trans-Siberian Orchestra is different, though. They take a topic that has been worked and overworked and they recreate it. That's something nobody else seems to know how to do. I loathe pop-remakes of carols. I hate singing carols with the exception of one. These guys are artists, and they need to be appreciated.
♠
And once more, some more songs that I've discovered in my massive uploading of strange music. These are from epic torrents--songs that stand out enough to end up relistened to.
Built to Spill's Conventional Wisdom
Elf Power's An Old Familiar Scene
Pisolita's Cupid
Thom Yorke's Analyse
Aereogramme's Barriers
Thom Yorke sounds so much like Muse that I had to look him up to be sure he wasn't actually a member of Muse. He's not. He's English, though! Pistolita used to open for Brand New. Aereogramme has...like...wow sound.
I say score.
Also, Neil is getting me Islands. ♥
Also, also, highrise came to see me at work. I made her a cone that could crush civilizations.
He lords over one of Gotham's bridges with his legs thrown atop of the edge, dangling high above the thin layer of ice and unbothered by the cold. It's been a mild Christmas, save for the first two weeks of December. If one took away the colour, this could be a silent movie with all of it's blacks and whites.
No red lights from the boats out on the ocean.
"Dude," he hears. "You're hard to find. You weren't talking."
"I have no one to talk to," Robin states, accepting the presence of the one who has just landed behind him.
"Was that a burn, because if you want me to leave you'll have to be more blunt, Rob."
"Not a burn," Robin states, rubbing at his chin. Or, well, if he thinks about it. No, not a burn. Just an observation, though he would appreciate silence tonight. Heavy, solid silence that could someday be sacredly understood and loved, instead of borne tirelessly. With secrets.
"Thought you'd at least be hanging out doing Christmas Eve things. Your butler had hot chocolate on the stove and had to offer me some because nobody was drinking it. Said you'd be patrolling or expecting terrorists or something. I went looking for trouble."
Robin shrugs his shoulders, wondering if the other had had any of Al's cocoa. What would be the best way to tell?
No, he shakes his head. Not now.
It can't be more than a few degrees below freezing. His breath still clouds but he hardly feels it.
The warmth of the other could overthrow suns.
"This is like that stupid movie about the bridge and the guy jumping," continues Robin's guest, probably uncomfortable with the silence. "You could be trying to convince people not to jump."
"How many did you catch on your way over?" Robin asks.
"Two," comes the answer, quite instinctively. "And...wait. Shut up."
"Merry Christmas," Robin sighs, dragging a hand along the back of his neck. He has a scarf shoved into one of his belt compartments in case a wind picks up. If there isn't a breath of it from up here, Robin's pretty certain the rest of the night will be tame. "Just wait until the bars do last call."
"Is this why you're out here, moping instead of celebrating the season? It's Christmas, man. Time for family and settling in."
"Family," Robin laughs, and then grows still.
"Oh. Geez, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Dude, that was...I'm horrible."
Robin glances over his shoulder, feeling himself slide a bit on the metal girding, high above the lonely bridge. The expression he sees is sincere and it makes him want to take back his dry humour. He had in fact been baiting his friend, even if it had been unknowingly done.
It makes him feel guilty for his guilt.
"Hey," he murmurs, shifting so that he's directed more at his companion. "It's fine. Really."
If he reaches up, he can strip off the mask and really mean what he says.
He holds his perch cautiously, instead. "I am glad you came all the way out. That you tried to find me."
"Dude, I thought for sure that you'd be sending my sorry ass home. I know I'm a jerk."
"No," Robin shakes his head. "You're not. In fact, earlier tonight there was a B n' E at a jewelery shop. Shattering glass, and the sound of it made me..."
"Yeah?"
Think of you.
The ship lurches, drawing the figure on deck out of a deep revere.
"Tim," he hears. "You're hard to find."
"Uh?" he turns, watching the dark shape disentangle itself from the darkness. "I was meditating."
"Oh," he is answered; new companion leaning against the guard rail as if they are soon to start bonding. Tim will have to see it first to believe it, though. It makes him..."Guess we won't be seeing stars out tonight. It's just clouded and cold, which really doesn't make this Christmas stand out, does it?"
"No," answers Tim, searching for some sincerity in the words. Some interest. It's all...so very well feigned. "Not here. Maybe in Gotham."
"Gotham's in good hands," he's reassured. "Dick's looking after things."
"Yeah," hums Tim. A moment. "Dick."
"I'm going back to train," Tim is told, an awkward pause later.
"Merry Christmas," Tim says to himself, not calling it out after his guardian.
A million miles from nowhere, his spot on the sea is marked only by the dull glow of the green starboard marker. If he tries hard enough, he can't be found.
If he tries hard enough, he can pretend he hears bells.
Postal Service's The District Sleep's Tonight
♠
And also, some of the only Christmas music worth hearing. (solarayze, lemme know if any of these is that song you had been telling me about.)
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's An Angel Came Down
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's O Come All Ye Faithful/O Holy Night
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's A Star to Follow
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's First Snow
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's The Silent Nutcracker
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's A Mad Russian's Christmas
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's The Prince of Peace
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12-24
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Ornament
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Good King Joy
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's The First Noel
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Old City Bar
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Promises To Keep
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's This Christmas Day
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's An Angel Returned
Trans-Siberian Orchestra's O Holy Knight
Enjoy. My "I'll only upload a few songs about the angel" turned into pretty much the entire album. I still demand that you all go out and purchase the real deal. It's worth it.
I hate Christmas songs. I hate them as much as Prime hates Tim having friends, so basically...SCREW CHRISTMAS SONGS! The Trans-Siberian Orchestra is different, though. They take a topic that has been worked and overworked and they recreate it. That's something nobody else seems to know how to do. I loathe pop-remakes of carols. I hate singing carols with the exception of one. These guys are artists, and they need to be appreciated.
♠
And once more, some more songs that I've discovered in my massive uploading of strange music. These are from epic torrents--songs that stand out enough to end up relistened to.
Built to Spill's Conventional Wisdom
Elf Power's An Old Familiar Scene
Pisolita's Cupid
Thom Yorke's Analyse
Aereogramme's Barriers
Thom Yorke sounds so much like Muse that I had to look him up to be sure he wasn't actually a member of Muse. He's not. He's English, though! Pistolita used to open for Brand New. Aereogramme has...like...wow sound.
I say score.
Also, Neil is getting me Islands. ♥
Also, also, highrise came to see me at work. I made her a cone that could crush civilizations.