(Untitled)

[identitywhat]

WHO: Donna Troy and Dick Grayson (open to Roy and/or Jason later on, if you guys would like!)
WHAT: Donna and Dick converse about things. Eventually, the death of a certain Bat.
WHERE: Dick's cell.
WHEN: Monday? Dec 14th? TO BE DETERMINED!

Comments

[knightprodigy]

He really was that bored, so bored that the idea of playing solitaire was actually a pretty exciting concept. Secondary to seeing one of his oldest and best friends though, naturally.

"All of the above." He had his hands jammed into the pockets of a warm moleskin jacket that - along with the red breasted robin ornament that hung in his only window, and the mistletoe - had appeared a few days ago.

"Gingerbread?"" He asked, of course he could smell it, that spicy scent. Anything that covered the smell of damp and rot was more than welcome, and Dick made sure he breathed in a good lungful of it. "You know you didn't have to."

[identitywhat]

"I am aware that if I fatten you up enough, it'll ruin any chance you've got of squeezing through those bars. But I figure, hey," Donna approached closer, pocketing the cards in her sweater to free up her other hand and begin untying the bag. "You're an acrobat. You'll figure it out."

It was kind of killing her not to be able to hug him through his cell. She very much just wanted to demolish the entire place. One month without any progress? This place was just basically leaving it up to the people to find enough evidence to prove Dick's innocence, and no authorities?

She held the bag up close, but not before reaching in to grab a cookie for herself.

[knightprodigy]

He actually can open the lock on the cell door, he tried it on his first night, just to see. And now every night since had been spent staring at it, desperately trying not to think about letting himself out, just for an hour or two. The thoughts were usually squashed by the nightwatch though, which - for whatever unhelpful reason - failed to run like clockwork. So night in and night out Dick was stuck pacing like a caged animal rather than actually out there and doing something useful.

Dick smiled warmly at his friend. Between her, Bart's pizzas and Jilly's stews he was probably eating better now than ever before. "So much for the master plan." He chuckled, dipping an uncuffed hand (he generally kept them off during the day; there were less guards around it seemed) into the bag