Fic: "Lex", (Damian, Jason, Tim, Ensemble), R, word count: 1,085
Title: Lex
Author: the_protagonist
Fandom: DCU, Tim Drake (Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, misc).
Rating: R for cursing and zombies.
Word Count: 1,085
Notes: Just a few things. I wrote this as a 40-minute writing exercise which I dubbed "40 Minute Zombie Fic". This is un-beta'd, but audienced by alexiel_neesan <3. The titles has nothing to do with Lex Luther. I was listening to "Lex" by Ratatat on repeat while I wrote this. You should listen to it; it's some good stuff.
Read & review, cause it's good manners. I might go ahead and do a second part tomorrow during my late shift at work.
Happy Halloween, my lovelies!
"Tell me again, Drake, why I'm meeting you here?"
Tim pulled the trigger of an empty grappling hook and listened to the click of the catch as it sprung free. The release mechanism was just... just a touch slower than he would like. But for tonight, for what he and Damian were going to do, it would be fine. "Dude. We've been through this. I'm following orders. If you have problems with the assignment go talk to Dick. Or Bruce. Complain to someone other than me."
"It's asinine, is what it is, Drake. I mean. What are you going to call me on the com? R? Your name also starts with 'R' and has another 'R' in it! I have to call you 'R-R'? The perpetrators are going to think I have a stutter!" Damian paced back and forth, the yellow of the inside of his cape flipped madly about the heels of his modified combat boots.
"Nah. Worse they'll think is that we're some sort of authoritarian pirate hoard."
The look the younger kid gave him could strip paint of the wall. "What are you *on* about?"
"Arrr? Arrr. Pirates say-" Tim blew the bangs from his eyes in exasperation, "You know what? Never-mind." He checked and re-checked his belt. "We'll go the safe, numeric route if it bothers you that much. I'll be one and you be two, okay?"
"Why are you one? I'm *better* than you. *I'm* number one."
"Fine! You be one! I don't care, Damian!" The cowl still felt weird as he pulled it over his hair and down over his eyes. "You ready?"
"I was ready an hour ago."
"Then let's get this over with." He was just about to grab his helmet when the Alarm that signaled a break in in the back of his coop sounded.
Damian turned and shrugged at him, "I'll wait. Longer."
Tim turned to the monitors and queued up the cameras to the back, "Well, frack." He rolled back from the monitors, grabbed a shuriken from the release at his chest and spun to his feet just in time for Jason Todd to kick through the double doors. He was just as big and strong as ever; just a size or two smaller than Bruce now. The large man wasn't in any sort of uniform, just a pair of jeans, a tee-shirt and a canvas jacket. Tim figured he was at least wearing armor, but he wasn't close enough to tell. The clothes themselves were ripped and he had blood stains up and down the cotton. Blood was dripping sluggishly from a head wound on his right temple, the tuft of white near the crown slowly staining pink.
Jason saw him and barked out a laugh, "Jesus Christ, Drake. You just can't stop stealing my uniforms can you? How much did Alfred have to take that in, really?"
And any concern over Jason's injuries disappeared. If he could mock him within 5 seconds of seeing him, he was fine. "What can I do for you... Red Hood is it? How did prison treat you? Not well it seems."
Damian pulled his own batarang and threw it before Tim could breath out a command to the kid, "Watch it, midgit!" Jason said as he side stepped the metal as it sang through the air.
Damian... Damian was *seething*. "You got me shot in the spine. You must die now." Damian stalked his way over to the two older men.
"Robin. *Cool it*." He stepped in front of Damian, "Red Hood- Jason. What do you want."
"I need to talk to your boss, genius. Where is he and if say what I think you're gonna say I'm gonna punch you in the mouth."
"He's off planet." Tim dodged the fist, just barely, "Go talk to Dick. He's at the top at the moment."
"It can't be Dick, Tim. Dick can't handle this." Jason groaned out. He put his hands through his hair and started pacing. "Something is going on out there. A fucker tried to *bite* me."
"I'm resisting that urge myself." Damian muttered darkly while Tim studied Jason further. He was pale. But, his eyes were extremely wary. TIm had never seen Jason's eye like this.
"Shut up, Damian." Tim and Jason declared at the same time. "Who tried to bite you exactly?"
"A. Fred. A homeless guy I sometimes give food too. He's an ex-vet. I was dropping off some stuff for him and he just... he looked sick. Gray and there was what looked like a boil on his neck with inflamed veins. And he just... lunged and started trying to mite me." Jason stopped pacing and saw Tim clicking through monitors.
"This was at Grant Park?"
"Yeah. And Tim, there were... I mean. There were others. And this has to be some sort of... blood-born disease right? I mean. It has to be."
Tim turned to the computer and started to type has quickly as possible searching all search-engines at once. "Yeah, maybe. Just shut up for a second."
What he was looking for came up on the second page, the second search down. It was a news report with a video file; he clicked it and the video immediately began to play on the monitor projected on the wall.
"Earlier today there have been reports of a rapid mutation of the rabies virus spreading through Gotham City. It is very serious and it has been recommended that everyone stay inside for the next 48 hours until the authorities synthesize the correct vaccination to treat the victims and the pests. Use caution and lock doors and windows and keep listening to the radio for further instructions-"
Tim clicked youtube next. Key phrases like, 'Gotham City' and 'rabies' and 'zombies' gave him just what he was looking for.
The man in the video looked normal except for the white film over his eyes and the pussing boil that had exploded on his neck. The veins surrounding the infected tissue were angry purple and pink. The video quality was low, probably taken from a cell phone of some sort, and the frame was shaking and out of focus, but Tim thought there was a wound on the back of the guys left quad. Angry flashes of red never staying in the frame for longer than an eighth of a second and always blurry.
Jason stopped and stared as Tim played the video again, "That's. That's *not* fucking rabies, right."
"No." Tim swallowed and pushed the cowl off his head, "It's not."
Author: the_protagonist
Fandom: DCU, Tim Drake (Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, misc).
Rating: R for cursing and zombies.
Word Count: 1,085
Notes: Just a few things. I wrote this as a 40-minute writing exercise which I dubbed "40 Minute Zombie Fic". This is un-beta'd, but audienced by alexiel_neesan <3. The titles has nothing to do with Lex Luther. I was listening to "Lex" by Ratatat on repeat while I wrote this. You should listen to it; it's some good stuff.
Read & review, cause it's good manners. I might go ahead and do a second part tomorrow during my late shift at work.
Happy Halloween, my lovelies!
"Tell me again, Drake, why I'm meeting you here?"
Tim pulled the trigger of an empty grappling hook and listened to the click of the catch as it sprung free. The release mechanism was just... just a touch slower than he would like. But for tonight, for what he and Damian were going to do, it would be fine. "Dude. We've been through this. I'm following orders. If you have problems with the assignment go talk to Dick. Or Bruce. Complain to someone other than me."
"It's asinine, is what it is, Drake. I mean. What are you going to call me on the com? R? Your name also starts with 'R' and has another 'R' in it! I have to call you 'R-R'? The perpetrators are going to think I have a stutter!" Damian paced back and forth, the yellow of the inside of his cape flipped madly about the heels of his modified combat boots.
"Nah. Worse they'll think is that we're some sort of authoritarian pirate hoard."
The look the younger kid gave him could strip paint of the wall. "What are you *on* about?"
"Arrr? Arrr. Pirates say-" Tim blew the bangs from his eyes in exasperation, "You know what? Never-mind." He checked and re-checked his belt. "We'll go the safe, numeric route if it bothers you that much. I'll be one and you be two, okay?"
"Why are you one? I'm *better* than you. *I'm* number one."
"Fine! You be one! I don't care, Damian!" The cowl still felt weird as he pulled it over his hair and down over his eyes. "You ready?"
"I was ready an hour ago."
"Then let's get this over with." He was just about to grab his helmet when the Alarm that signaled a break in in the back of his coop sounded.
Damian turned and shrugged at him, "I'll wait. Longer."
Tim turned to the monitors and queued up the cameras to the back, "Well, frack." He rolled back from the monitors, grabbed a shuriken from the release at his chest and spun to his feet just in time for Jason Todd to kick through the double doors. He was just as big and strong as ever; just a size or two smaller than Bruce now. The large man wasn't in any sort of uniform, just a pair of jeans, a tee-shirt and a canvas jacket. Tim figured he was at least wearing armor, but he wasn't close enough to tell. The clothes themselves were ripped and he had blood stains up and down the cotton. Blood was dripping sluggishly from a head wound on his right temple, the tuft of white near the crown slowly staining pink.
Jason saw him and barked out a laugh, "Jesus Christ, Drake. You just can't stop stealing my uniforms can you? How much did Alfred have to take that in, really?"
And any concern over Jason's injuries disappeared. If he could mock him within 5 seconds of seeing him, he was fine. "What can I do for you... Red Hood is it? How did prison treat you? Not well it seems."
Damian pulled his own batarang and threw it before Tim could breath out a command to the kid, "Watch it, midgit!" Jason said as he side stepped the metal as it sang through the air.
Damian... Damian was *seething*. "You got me shot in the spine. You must die now." Damian stalked his way over to the two older men.
"Robin. *Cool it*." He stepped in front of Damian, "Red Hood- Jason. What do you want."
"I need to talk to your boss, genius. Where is he and if say what I think you're gonna say I'm gonna punch you in the mouth."
"He's off planet." Tim dodged the fist, just barely, "Go talk to Dick. He's at the top at the moment."
"It can't be Dick, Tim. Dick can't handle this." Jason groaned out. He put his hands through his hair and started pacing. "Something is going on out there. A fucker tried to *bite* me."
"I'm resisting that urge myself." Damian muttered darkly while Tim studied Jason further. He was pale. But, his eyes were extremely wary. TIm had never seen Jason's eye like this.
"Shut up, Damian." Tim and Jason declared at the same time. "Who tried to bite you exactly?"
"A. Fred. A homeless guy I sometimes give food too. He's an ex-vet. I was dropping off some stuff for him and he just... he looked sick. Gray and there was what looked like a boil on his neck with inflamed veins. And he just... lunged and started trying to mite me." Jason stopped pacing and saw Tim clicking through monitors.
"This was at Grant Park?"
"Yeah. And Tim, there were... I mean. There were others. And this has to be some sort of... blood-born disease right? I mean. It has to be."
Tim turned to the computer and started to type has quickly as possible searching all search-engines at once. "Yeah, maybe. Just shut up for a second."
What he was looking for came up on the second page, the second search down. It was a news report with a video file; he clicked it and the video immediately began to play on the monitor projected on the wall.
"Earlier today there have been reports of a rapid mutation of the rabies virus spreading through Gotham City. It is very serious and it has been recommended that everyone stay inside for the next 48 hours until the authorities synthesize the correct vaccination to treat the victims and the pests. Use caution and lock doors and windows and keep listening to the radio for further instructions-"
Tim clicked youtube next. Key phrases like, 'Gotham City' and 'rabies' and 'zombies' gave him just what he was looking for.
The man in the video looked normal except for the white film over his eyes and the pussing boil that had exploded on his neck. The veins surrounding the infected tissue were angry purple and pink. The video quality was low, probably taken from a cell phone of some sort, and the frame was shaking and out of focus, but Tim thought there was a wound on the back of the guys left quad. Angry flashes of red never staying in the frame for longer than an eighth of a second and always blurry.
Jason stopped and stared as Tim played the video again, "That's. That's *not* fucking rabies, right."
"No." Tim swallowed and pushed the cowl off his head, "It's not."