(Untitled)

[blue_bat]

There's a Dick in the bar, we swear

Comments

[empath_wiggin]

From somewhere, a wad of paper is launched at Dick. Just paper for now.

[blue_bat]

It hits him on the head, and he mutters something about damn bats before going back to sleep.

[empath_wiggin]

It is followed by about three more in rapid succession.

[blue_bat]

More mutterings, and he's closer to awake. But not yet.

Might want to try something more persuasive, Val. Or just keep em coming.

[empath_wiggin]

How about a notebook? The paper product in question arches over a rafter and hits him on the head.

[blue_bat]

...not even Dick can sleep through that. He jumps awake and nearly falls off the rafter. Good thing he doesn't, huh?

"What the fuck -- ?!"

[empath_wiggin]

Val's there. Giggling. "Careful, bat-boy. Don't wanna get knocked off your perch."

[blue_bat]

Dick narrows his eyes at her and jumps down onto her table. "Was it you that threw that?" He's torn between annoyance and amusement.

[empath_wiggin]

"It might have been. Or perhaps it wasn't." She's grinning at him. "How was your nap?"

[blue_bat]

"It was good," Dick says with a satisfied sort of cat grin. "Better than it should have been up there, but hey."

[empath_wiggin]

Val laughs. "So, why's bat-boy so tired? Out too late last night?"

[blue_bat]

"It's probably more lack -of- activity, actually," Dick admits.

[empath_wiggin]

"Tell me about it. I'm gettin' bored around here myself." She points at some scraps of paper on the table. "Trying to write for something, but I don't have enough background information yet to do much of anything, so it's just boring, basic propaganda." She wrinkles her nose. "At least you can go and randomly fight crime or something."

[blue_bat]

Dick shakes his head. "I can't. Not now." But they hadn't really talked about that, had they? Huh.

"What are you trying to write about?" He picks up a scrap.

[empath_wiggin]

"Why not?" It's more of a demand for information than a question, really.

The paper Dick picks up is the beginnings of a pamphlet which lauds the 'return of the King of Antar'. It is pretty basic, albeit compelling propaganda about a returning disposed leader. It seems shallow, though, as if the writer didn't have specific information. Typically Demosthenes, though.

"Well, I'm working with some people in the bar to take back their planet. I get to write the propaganda, but I don't have enough details to really make it good."

[blue_bat]

And Dick knows better than to ignore her demands. Far, far better. "I quit after... -he- died."

She should know who.

He reads over the paper quickly, taking in all the information. "Can you ask the bar for information?"