I'm trying to read what the flashing red letters say
Who: Tim Drake and Jason Todd.
What: Fireworks and old ghosts. Jason breaks a table. AIM log.
Where: The House of Heroes, Kaelis's shop, and later a clearing outside of town.
When: This morning, November 1st.
Tim: *stirs awake on the 1st, somehow shorter than he was yesterday? Back to his normal height, at least.*
Jason: *Is half-sprawled, half-curled up on the floor over in the corner, if Tim looks over there. Asleep and thankfully not snoring.*
Tim: *well, that's weird. What is Jason doing in his... not his room. Not his bed. And why is there a nasty taste in his mouth? ... okay moving to get up now. What's he even wearing?*
Jason: *Yeah, good luck getting up, Tim. It's not uncomfortable or too tight or anything, but there is a rope fastening his hand securely to the side of the bed.*
Tim: ... You gotta be kidding.
Jason: *Stirs at the sound of Tim's voice, sitting up and rubbing a hand through his hair.* Mmn?
Tim: Seriously. What the hell? *promptly picking at that knot with his free hand- oh hey purple sleeve. ... TCH. He'll get it off when he's untied. Scowling away* If this is how you do kidnapping, you really suck at it.
Jason: *He stares at Tim for second or two, hard and serious. And then he lets out a heavy sigh and stands up.* Back to your old self, huh? *He'll just come over and undo that knot for you, now. There are white smudges on his jacket, particularly the sleeve ends.*
Tim: *looks up just in time to catch the end of that - and return it with a sharp narrow stare.* Yeah. *yanks his hand away, starts hauling off the purple. So going to burn it. Again. Muffled* I was out?
Jason: You were out on the town. Laughing it up. *There's an ugly twist in his voice, but he's standing back from the bed, just watching.* You don't remember?
Tim: *Freezes. Stares at the giant bowtie he just yanked off. There's a sick cast to his face.* No. *shirt, shoes, socks--* You got somethin' I can wear?
Jason: *Shakes his head.* We're under the House of Heroes, so if you've got a change of clothes stashed here like a good little Bat, then sure. *And he scowls* Why the hell did you put that suit on in the first place?
Tim: I didn't!! *pitches a shoe hard enough to hit the wall. The thud quiets him to a simmer.* I chucked it the day it showed up. *pause.* After that I burned it. *pause again, gnawing on his lip.* ...Back closet, top shelf.
Jason: *He clenches his hands into fists, face twisting as he turns away. And kicks the wall next to the door.* Fuck this place! He's not even here and it's still letting him *punches it* fuck with us! *He storms out, and moves upstairs to get Tim's clothes. There's noises of more swearing, more things being hit - broken - but when he gets back, clothes in hand, Jason seems... calmer, at least. Or maybe he's just forced it all back under the surface. He chucks the clothes at Tim.* Here.
Tim: *When Jason gets back he's sitting curled with only the bedsheet to cover his lower half, hands clenched on elbows, staring hard at nothing. (He got in from patrol. Checked on Yoite. Went to bed. Then-- nothing.)* Thanks. *small pile of cloth does not bear further looking at. He'll just turn and dress.*
Jason: Tch, whatever. *He looks away, staring at the wall. He wants to grab that purple suit and set it on fire.* Just be glad I recognised your pretty little face under the make up.
Tim: *freezes again there was make up oh god, white on Jason's sleeves. Mouth dry* Yeah. *pulls on plainclothes, testing for injury- nothing. Bump on his head maybe. Licks his lips, has to ask* Who- who else...?
Jason: Deathstroke was around, but left. Don't know who else saw, but you were on the journals. Laughing. *There's that bitter twist in his voice again.* You should get home, they'll be worried.
Tim: *Long pause. Long pause. This is one hell of a long pause.* Oh. *And then his mind kind of zeroes in on shit hell god dammit Bruce.* Yeh. *Making no move to get up.*
Jason: *Have a long pause right back, and then Jason walks back over and squeezes Tim's shoulder. It wasn't you.*
Tim: *not looking, he whips a hand out to grab Jason's wrist. Thanks.*
Jason: *Sighs, very quietly.* C'mon. I'll walk you home.
Tim: *stands, eyes down. Picks up the garish heap of clothing on the floor, and wads it up.* Think we got an errand to run first.
Jason: *Eyes the clothing flatly.* Yeah? You want to throw that off a cliff or burn it? Either would be very cathartic, I feel.
Tim: The cliff would take longer. *pause.* I know where to get fireworks.
Jason: *Naaasty little smile.* Ooh, explosions. That's fitting. Lead the way.
Tim: *They'll pick up explosives from Kaelis. He won't talk much.*
Jason: *Somehow, he's not expecting him to. He almost offered to take care of the little suit himself, but he gets the feeling this is something Tim wants to do for himself. With the fireworks, they head to a clearing at the edge of town, where it's quiet and hopefully, no-one will be bothered enough to bug them.*
Tim: *He rigs it up by himself- quick and dirty, definitely not an elaborate setup. But once the fuse is laid and the flints are out... he offers the steel to Jason.*
Jason: *He gives Tim a look to ask if he's sure, then takes it and lights the fuse, an unreadable expression on his face. It's just a bunch of clothes, but what they stand for - what they made Tim into - yeah, they gotta go. He steps back and rests his hand on Tim's shoulder again as the fuse burns up and sets the firework off.*
Tim: *He leans into it, just for a second, and then stands straight. The explosion hits like a slap in the face, but he doesn't flinch... and his eyes track the smoke trail straight up. The whole bundle busts open in a shower of red and yellow sparks.*
Jason: *He lets out an approving whistle at the colours.* That's better.
Tim: *He swallows, and nods.* Yeah. It is.
Jason: *He squeezes Tim's shoulder again, letting them stand together in silence for a while. Just staring up at the sky.* You good to go?
Tim: *Watching little puffs of smoke wisp away in the clearing morning sky. Breathes in, and out.* ... Guess I am.
Jason: *He sticks his hands in his pockets after a moment, nodding and turning away.* C'mon then, kid.
Tim: *Turns with, almost in unison.* Whatever you say, old man.
Jason: *His hand snaps out to deliver a rough ruffle-swat, and he grins.* Brat.
Tim: *Moves with! Not enough to avoid it, though, and he grins back.* You love it.
What: Fireworks and old ghosts. Jason breaks a table. AIM log.
Where: The House of Heroes, Kaelis's shop, and later a clearing outside of town.
When: This morning, November 1st.
Tim: *stirs awake on the 1st, somehow shorter than he was yesterday? Back to his normal height, at least.*
Jason: *Is half-sprawled, half-curled up on the floor over in the corner, if Tim looks over there. Asleep and thankfully not snoring.*
Tim: *well, that's weird. What is Jason doing in his... not his room. Not his bed. And why is there a nasty taste in his mouth? ... okay moving to get up now. What's he even wearing?*
Jason: *Yeah, good luck getting up, Tim. It's not uncomfortable or too tight or anything, but there is a rope fastening his hand securely to the side of the bed.*
Tim: ... You gotta be kidding.
Jason: *Stirs at the sound of Tim's voice, sitting up and rubbing a hand through his hair.* Mmn?
Tim: Seriously. What the hell? *promptly picking at that knot with his free hand- oh hey purple sleeve. ... TCH. He'll get it off when he's untied. Scowling away* If this is how you do kidnapping, you really suck at it.
Jason: *He stares at Tim for second or two, hard and serious. And then he lets out a heavy sigh and stands up.* Back to your old self, huh? *He'll just come over and undo that knot for you, now. There are white smudges on his jacket, particularly the sleeve ends.*
Tim: *looks up just in time to catch the end of that - and return it with a sharp narrow stare.* Yeah. *yanks his hand away, starts hauling off the purple. So going to burn it. Again. Muffled* I was out?
Jason: You were out on the town. Laughing it up. *There's an ugly twist in his voice, but he's standing back from the bed, just watching.* You don't remember?
Tim: *Freezes. Stares at the giant bowtie he just yanked off. There's a sick cast to his face.* No. *shirt, shoes, socks--* You got somethin' I can wear?
Jason: *Shakes his head.* We're under the House of Heroes, so if you've got a change of clothes stashed here like a good little Bat, then sure. *And he scowls* Why the hell did you put that suit on in the first place?
Tim: I didn't!! *pitches a shoe hard enough to hit the wall. The thud quiets him to a simmer.* I chucked it the day it showed up. *pause.* After that I burned it. *pause again, gnawing on his lip.* ...Back closet, top shelf.
Jason: *He clenches his hands into fists, face twisting as he turns away. And kicks the wall next to the door.* Fuck this place! He's not even here and it's still letting him *punches it* fuck with us! *He storms out, and moves upstairs to get Tim's clothes. There's noises of more swearing, more things being hit - broken - but when he gets back, clothes in hand, Jason seems... calmer, at least. Or maybe he's just forced it all back under the surface. He chucks the clothes at Tim.* Here.
Tim: *When Jason gets back he's sitting curled with only the bedsheet to cover his lower half, hands clenched on elbows, staring hard at nothing. (He got in from patrol. Checked on Yoite. Went to bed. Then-- nothing.)* Thanks. *small pile of cloth does not bear further looking at. He'll just turn and dress.*
Jason: Tch, whatever. *He looks away, staring at the wall. He wants to grab that purple suit and set it on fire.* Just be glad I recognised your pretty little face under the make up.
Tim: *freezes again there was make up oh god, white on Jason's sleeves. Mouth dry* Yeah. *pulls on plainclothes, testing for injury- nothing. Bump on his head maybe. Licks his lips, has to ask* Who- who else...?
Jason: Deathstroke was around, but left. Don't know who else saw, but you were on the journals. Laughing. *There's that bitter twist in his voice again.* You should get home, they'll be worried.
Tim: *Long pause. Long pause. This is one hell of a long pause.* Oh. *And then his mind kind of zeroes in on shit hell god dammit Bruce.* Yeh. *Making no move to get up.*
Jason: *Have a long pause right back, and then Jason walks back over and squeezes Tim's shoulder. It wasn't you.*
Tim: *not looking, he whips a hand out to grab Jason's wrist. Thanks.*
Jason: *Sighs, very quietly.* C'mon. I'll walk you home.
Tim: *stands, eyes down. Picks up the garish heap of clothing on the floor, and wads it up.* Think we got an errand to run first.
Jason: *Eyes the clothing flatly.* Yeah? You want to throw that off a cliff or burn it? Either would be very cathartic, I feel.
Tim: The cliff would take longer. *pause.* I know where to get fireworks.
Jason: *Naaasty little smile.* Ooh, explosions. That's fitting. Lead the way.
Tim: *They'll pick up explosives from Kaelis. He won't talk much.*
Jason: *Somehow, he's not expecting him to. He almost offered to take care of the little suit himself, but he gets the feeling this is something Tim wants to do for himself. With the fireworks, they head to a clearing at the edge of town, where it's quiet and hopefully, no-one will be bothered enough to bug them.*
Tim: *He rigs it up by himself- quick and dirty, definitely not an elaborate setup. But once the fuse is laid and the flints are out... he offers the steel to Jason.*
Jason: *He gives Tim a look to ask if he's sure, then takes it and lights the fuse, an unreadable expression on his face. It's just a bunch of clothes, but what they stand for - what they made Tim into - yeah, they gotta go. He steps back and rests his hand on Tim's shoulder again as the fuse burns up and sets the firework off.*
Tim: *He leans into it, just for a second, and then stands straight. The explosion hits like a slap in the face, but he doesn't flinch... and his eyes track the smoke trail straight up. The whole bundle busts open in a shower of red and yellow sparks.*
Jason: *He lets out an approving whistle at the colours.* That's better.
Tim: *He swallows, and nods.* Yeah. It is.
Jason: *He squeezes Tim's shoulder again, letting them stand together in silence for a while. Just staring up at the sky.* You good to go?
Tim: *Watching little puffs of smoke wisp away in the clearing morning sky. Breathes in, and out.* ... Guess I am.
Jason: *He sticks his hands in his pockets after a moment, nodding and turning away.* C'mon then, kid.
Tim: *Turns with, almost in unison.* Whatever you say, old man.
Jason: *His hand snaps out to deliver a rough ruffle-swat, and he grins.* Brat.
Tim: *Moves with! Not enough to avoid it, though, and he grins back.* You love it.