could have been a robin..

Ghost of Gotham!

[mimicking-songbird]

"Hiding. It's a habit of mine. One I'll never kick. Not now."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏『••✎••』﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

✏ Haunting AU

✏ Mimicking Robin!!

✏ forever Nine

✏ He's a mimicking ghost, he can transform into people once he has a photo of them :)

✏ I'll help no matter what!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏『••✎••』﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

" I knew the more I pried, that I'd become a target."

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Tim died at nine during spring break, following the bats and clutching his camera like a little talisman.

If he’d just let the damn thing smash and covered his head instead, maybe he’d still be breathing. But he didn’t! Instead he tried to catch a photo of his murderer. His camera flashed as he stared up at who had pushed him.

His body wasn’t found until the next morning, curled behind a dumpster, camera and hands crushed and broken, when a squad car’s headlights swept over him. His parents rushed home, held a small funeral with too many flowers and too few answers, then left the house. Not wanting to be in a place that used to hum with his laugh in every hallway.

But Tim? He never left.

The house is stuffed with old relics, jars of ancient bone fragments, a mirror that reflects a ghost of some beloved woman, a prized ancient pot, and more. One of those things had to have cursed the Drakes. One of those things wouldn't let death take him. Tim just happened to be the first to wake it up. Now he drifts through the city in his favorite hoodie, flickering like a bad signal, mimicking and protecting the second Robin he used to follow. He helps where he can: nudges a falling brick, whispers a warning into ears, leaves his camera flash to stun and allow victims to get away.

Who said the dead don’t talk?

Tim talks all the time!

You just have to stop panicking enough to listen.

Profile

<No rules for interaction. Send what you want>

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That strange feeling like guilt was definitely swelling into an ugly lump in his throat now, making it hard to breath or speak. Along with a little something curling in the depths of his gut, something almost like rage.

He had no idea how to respond to that. To the fact that it was even a little bit their fault that their sweet Timmy was dead.

Behind whited-out slits his eyes turned back to rest on the Gotham skyline. Beautiful, filthy, bloody resilient city. He carred a strange, twisted pride for it. Something just as twisted but close enough to love too. How many more of his children would this horrible and wonderful city take?

After a few moments he managed to shove words around the rock in his throat.

"Have you," he paused. "Have you seen enough universes to know what would have happened if you hadn't... died." His voice sounded strangely empty.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy's expression flickered, not with the static of his form, but something more human. Thoughtful. Heavy. ]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎! 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[ He said it like a question he already knew the answer to and horrific Lee cheery for such a morbid topic ]

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜.

[ He hugged his knees, the broken camera dangling uselessly. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛.

[ He paused making a face. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 '𝚍𝚒𝚎' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

[ Tim tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚑... 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜!

[ He gestured vaguely at Bruce. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.

[ He laughed, soft and self-aware. ]

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢

[ He pulled at his face. ]

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[bleedingheart-bat]

It was your legacy too.

There was almost certainly no sane answer to anything like that. Something like gratitude, for the effort put in, and the way it saved his children to some degree, but more than that there was so much grief that to save the others it cost another of his birds.

He wanted to ask if the robins treated Tim well. If he was enough of one of them even if he was dead. And what happened to Jason if he hadn't died, if maybe all the heartache had been avoided.

"Do you know what you would have grown up to do?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice softened, a little distant, a little wistful as he kicked his feet ]

𝚄𝚖, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive but there was something careful in the way he looked away. Tim had long sense decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. What was the point, really? He'd probably just get jealous. It wasn't like he could ever have what those other Tim have. He could not grow or change or be seen by many people. He could not meet a boyfriend or a hero team. Tim was forever just a boy with a camera. Then Tim glanced back, curiosity flickering in his translucent eyes. ]

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

[bleedingheart-bat]

He wasn't sure what to say. He supposed this meant that Tim knew he would become a hero and a bat, but he wasn't sure why he'd wanted to know now. He guessed he wanted to know if his son knew that in another life he had a family that cared about him. But it would be cruel wouldn't it, to tell him about everything, and leave him with the jealousy.

Then it caught up to him and he momentarily blue screened. Since when was Tim dating? He'd never heard about this. Something to ask his Tim about later.

...Anyway.

"Will you have to go back to your home... Universe?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim scratched the back of his head, he spoke almost sheepishly, like he was admitting something he didn't usually say out loud. ]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ Tim shrugged, he'd convinced himself of it a long time ago. ]

𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎? 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝙽𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎'𝚜.

[ He pause. He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, even though it wasn't really there. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎... 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Bruce frowned tightly.

It was incredibly tempting to just ask him to stay there with them, find some semblance of a home with them regardless of life or death. Maybe he could make sure the afterlife wasn't miserable for another child he failed.

He needed to learn how this worked first.

"Will I be able to see you most of the time?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice carried a strange lightness as he spoke, like he'd already made peace with it. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢.

[ He toyed with his camera again, the broken lens catching the faint city glow, before glancing over at Bruce and letting out a small, genuine laugh. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖—

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.

[ He shrugged, there was no bitterness in it. He really just accepted it. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That.... That was disheartening. He could try to look into this though. If there wasn't a way to make the afterlife easier for Tim, he would make one.

He looked back over at the translucent figure beside him and strangely wished he could ruffle his hair or wrap an arm around his shoulders. Not that he would've if he could, purely out of fear of overstepping.

"When I'm able to see you," he started slowly. "I want you to come over. I don't want you to be alone all the time, Tim."

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's whole demeanor shifted, as a switch had been flipped. He sat up straighter, the broken camera momentarily forgotten as he stared at Bruce with open, hopeful, disbelieving eyes. ]

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝??

[ A grin broke across his face, bright and boyish, achingly alive for someone who wasn't. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕!!

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞

[bleedingheart-bat]

The moment Tim's whole demeanor flipped, Bruce knew he would not regret those words for the rest of eternity. The slightest smile settled on his face, just enough to make his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"You'll be welcomed here," he assured. "If we can't see you, you can still hang around and try talking to us."

Something a little bit like resignation settled on his face too. "...We might have some other ghosts at the manor too, if you want to talk to them."

[mimicking-songbird]

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜? 𝙾𝚑! 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?? 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖! 𝙷𝚎'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

[ Tim frowned at the look on his face. He wasn't sure if he had done something wrong or not ]

... 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢? 𝙼𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝!

[bleedingheart-bat]

"Of course I want you to stay, lad," He answered immediately. His lips twitched into the tiniest tired smile. "And I hope you'll get along well with the..." He paused.

"What-? Jason is alive,"

[mimicking-songbird]

𝙾𝚑, 𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝??

𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎?

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛?

[bleedingheart-bat]

His lips drew into a thin line. Duke's voice rambled through his mind swearing up and down that the old Wayne couple hadn't ditched the manor. He remembered a few sollemn moments and words of comfort coming from nowhere, but never a clear face. A few light touches of reassurance almost imagined.

"...I can't be entirely sure," He admitted. "Signal- Duke, swears that he can see the ghosts of my parents."

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim nodded it would be cool to meet more ghosts. Maybe less lonely. He'd really do anything to feel less alone. It's why he was always talking. Yeah, he can't be heard or seen most of the time but being with people and pretending helps! He's gotten pretty good at pretending others were talking to him. ]

𝙳𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚑.. 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[bleedingheart-bat]

"He can. He's a gift to this city." His lips twitched into a smile. Then he paused. "...Have you run into Jay's ghost before?"

[mimicking-songbird]

𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑! 𝙸 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜. 𝙷𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗'𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That strange feeling like guilt was definitely swelling into an ugly lump in his throat now, making it hard to breath or speak. Along with a little something curling in the depths of his gut, something almost like rage.

He had no idea how to respond to that. To the fact that it was even a little bit their fault that their sweet Timmy was dead.

Behind whited-out slits his eyes turned back to rest on the Gotham skyline. Beautiful, filthy, bloody resilient city. He carred a strange, twisted pride for it. Something just as twisted but close enough to love too. How many more of his children would this horrible and wonderful city take?

After a few moments he managed to shove words around the rock in his throat.

"Have you," he paused. "Have you seen enough universes to know what would have happened if you hadn't... died." His voice sounded strangely empty.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy's expression flickered, not with the static of his form, but something more human. Thoughtful. Heavy. ]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎! 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[ He said it like a question he already knew the answer to and horrific Lee cheery for such a morbid topic ]

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜.

[ He hugged his knees, the broken camera dangling uselessly. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛.

[ He paused making a face. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 '𝚍𝚒𝚎' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

[ Tim tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚑... 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜!

[ He gestured vaguely at Bruce. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.

[ He laughed, soft and self-aware. ]

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢

[ He pulled at his face. ]

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[bleedingheart-bat]

It was your legacy too.

There was almost certainly no sane answer to anything like that. Something like gratitude, for the effort put in, and the way it saved his children to some degree, but more than that there was so much grief that to save the others it cost another of his birds.

He wanted to ask if the robins treated Tim well. If he was enough of one of them even if he was dead. And what happened to Jason if he hadn't died, if maybe all the heartache had been avoided.

"Do you know what you would have grown up to do?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice softened, a little distant, a little wistful as he kicked his feet ]

𝚄𝚖, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive but there was something careful in the way he looked away. Tim had long sense decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. What was the point, really? He'd probably just get jealous. It wasn't like he could ever have what those other Tim have. He could not grow or change or be seen by many people. He could not meet a boyfriend or a hero team. Tim was forever just a boy with a camera. Then Tim glanced back, curiosity flickering in his translucent eyes. ]

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

[bleedingheart-bat]

He wasn't sure what to say. He supposed this meant that Tim knew he would become a hero and a bat, but he wasn't sure why he'd wanted to know now. He guessed he wanted to know if his son knew that in another life he had a family that cared about him. But it would be cruel wouldn't it, to tell him about everything, and leave him with the jealousy.

Then it caught up to him and he momentarily blue screened. Since when was Tim dating? He'd never heard about this. Something to ask his Tim about later.

...Anyway.

"Will you have to go back to your home... Universe?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim scratched the back of his head, he spoke almost sheepishly, like he was admitting something he didn't usually say out loud. ]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ Tim shrugged, he'd convinced himself of it a long time ago. ]

𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎? 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝙽𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎'𝚜.

[ He pause. He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, even though it wasn't really there. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎... 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Bruce frowned tightly.

It was incredibly tempting to just ask him to stay there with them, find some semblance of a home with them regardless of life or death. Maybe he could make sure the afterlife wasn't miserable for another child he failed.

He needed to learn how this worked first.

"Will I be able to see you most of the time?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice carried a strange lightness as he spoke, like he'd already made peace with it. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢.

[ He toyed with his camera again, the broken lens catching the faint city glow, before glancing over at Bruce and letting out a small, genuine laugh. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖—

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.

[ He shrugged, there was no bitterness in it. He really just accepted it. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That.... That was disheartening. He could try to look into this though. If there wasn't a way to make the afterlife easier for Tim, he would make one.

He looked back over at the translucent figure beside him and strangely wished he could ruffle his hair or wrap an arm around his shoulders. Not that he would've if he could, purely out of fear of overstepping.

"When I'm able to see you," he started slowly. "I want you to come over. I don't want you to be alone all the time, Tim."

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's whole demeanor shifted, as a switch had been flipped. He sat up straighter, the broken camera momentarily forgotten as he stared at Bruce with open, hopeful, disbelieving eyes. ]

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝??

[ A grin broke across his face, bright and boyish, achingly alive for someone who wasn't. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕!!

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞

[bleedingheart-bat]

The moment Tim's whole demeanor flipped, Bruce knew he would not regret those words for the rest of eternity. The slightest smile settled on his face, just enough to make his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"You'll be welcomed here," he assured. "If we can't see you, you can still hang around and try talking to us."

Something a little bit like resignation settled on his face too. "...We might have some other ghosts at the manor too, if you want to talk to them."

[mimicking-songbird]

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜? 𝙾𝚑! 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?? 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖! 𝙷𝚎'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

[ Tim frowned at the look on his face. He wasn't sure if he had done something wrong or not ]

... 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢? 𝙼𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝!

[bleedingheart-bat]

"Of course I want you to stay, lad," He answered immediately. His lips twitched into the tiniest tired smile. "And I hope you'll get along well with the..." He paused.

"What-? Jason is alive,"

[mimicking-songbird]

𝙾𝚑, 𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝??

𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎?

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛?

[bleedingheart-bat]

His lips drew into a thin line. Duke's voice rambled through his mind swearing up and down that the old Wayne couple hadn't ditched the manor. He remembered a few sollemn moments and words of comfort coming from nowhere, but never a clear face. A few light touches of reassurance almost imagined.

"...I can't be entirely sure," He admitted. "Signal- Duke, swears that he can see the ghosts of my parents."

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim nodded it would be cool to meet more ghosts. Maybe less lonely. He'd really do anything to feel less alone. It's why he was always talking. Yeah, he can't be heard or seen most of the time but being with people and pretending helps! He's gotten pretty good at pretending others were talking to him. ]

𝙳𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚑.. 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That strange feeling like guilt was definitely swelling into an ugly lump in his throat now, making it hard to breath or speak. Along with a little something curling in the depths of his gut, something almost like rage.

He had no idea how to respond to that. To the fact that it was even a little bit their fault that their sweet Timmy was dead.

Behind whited-out slits his eyes turned back to rest on the Gotham skyline. Beautiful, filthy, bloody resilient city. He carred a strange, twisted pride for it. Something just as twisted but close enough to love too. How many more of his children would this horrible and wonderful city take?

After a few moments he managed to shove words around the rock in his throat.

"Have you," he paused. "Have you seen enough universes to know what would have happened if you hadn't... died." His voice sounded strangely empty.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy's expression flickered, not with the static of his form, but something more human. Thoughtful. Heavy. ]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎! 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[ He said it like a question he already knew the answer to and horrific Lee cheery for such a morbid topic ]

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜.

[ He hugged his knees, the broken camera dangling uselessly. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛.

[ He paused making a face. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 '𝚍𝚒𝚎' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

[ Tim tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚑... 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜!

[ He gestured vaguely at Bruce. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.

[ He laughed, soft and self-aware. ]

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢

[ He pulled at his face. ]

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[bleedingheart-bat]

It was your legacy too.

There was almost certainly no sane answer to anything like that. Something like gratitude, for the effort put in, and the way it saved his children to some degree, but more than that there was so much grief that to save the others it cost another of his birds.

He wanted to ask if the robins treated Tim well. If he was enough of one of them even if he was dead. And what happened to Jason if he hadn't died, if maybe all the heartache had been avoided.

"Do you know what you would have grown up to do?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice softened, a little distant, a little wistful as he kicked his feet ]

𝚄𝚖, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive but there was something careful in the way he looked away. Tim had long sense decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. What was the point, really? He'd probably just get jealous. It wasn't like he could ever have what those other Tim have. He could not grow or change or be seen by many people. He could not meet a boyfriend or a hero team. Tim was forever just a boy with a camera. Then Tim glanced back, curiosity flickering in his translucent eyes. ]

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

[bleedingheart-bat]

He wasn't sure what to say. He supposed this meant that Tim knew he would become a hero and a bat, but he wasn't sure why he'd wanted to know now. He guessed he wanted to know if his son knew that in another life he had a family that cared about him. But it would be cruel wouldn't it, to tell him about everything, and leave him with the jealousy.

Then it caught up to him and he momentarily blue screened. Since when was Tim dating? He'd never heard about this. Something to ask his Tim about later.

...Anyway.

"Will you have to go back to your home... Universe?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim scratched the back of his head, he spoke almost sheepishly, like he was admitting something he didn't usually say out loud. ]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ Tim shrugged, he'd convinced himself of it a long time ago. ]

𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎? 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝙽𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎'𝚜.

[ He pause. He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, even though it wasn't really there. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎... 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Bruce frowned tightly.

It was incredibly tempting to just ask him to stay there with them, find some semblance of a home with them regardless of life or death. Maybe he could make sure the afterlife wasn't miserable for another child he failed.

He needed to learn how this worked first.

"Will I be able to see you most of the time?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice carried a strange lightness as he spoke, like he'd already made peace with it. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢.

[ He toyed with his camera again, the broken lens catching the faint city glow, before glancing over at Bruce and letting out a small, genuine laugh. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖—

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.

[ He shrugged, there was no bitterness in it. He really just accepted it. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That.... That was disheartening. He could try to look into this though. If there wasn't a way to make the afterlife easier for Tim, he would make one.

He looked back over at the translucent figure beside him and strangely wished he could ruffle his hair or wrap an arm around his shoulders. Not that he would've if he could, purely out of fear of overstepping.

"When I'm able to see you," he started slowly. "I want you to come over. I don't want you to be alone all the time, Tim."

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's whole demeanor shifted, as a switch had been flipped. He sat up straighter, the broken camera momentarily forgotten as he stared at Bruce with open, hopeful, disbelieving eyes. ]

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝??

[ A grin broke across his face, bright and boyish, achingly alive for someone who wasn't. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕!!

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞

[bleedingheart-bat]

The moment Tim's whole demeanor flipped, Bruce knew he would not regret those words for the rest of eternity. The slightest smile settled on his face, just enough to make his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"You'll be welcomed here," he assured. "If we can't see you, you can still hang around and try talking to us."

Something a little bit like resignation settled on his face too. "...We might have some other ghosts at the manor too, if you want to talk to them."

[mimicking-songbird]

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜? 𝙾𝚑! 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?? 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖! 𝙷𝚎'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

[ Tim frowned at the look on his face. He wasn't sure if he had done something wrong or not ]

... 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢? 𝙼𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝!

[bleedingheart-bat]

"Of course I want you to stay, lad," He answered immediately. His lips twitched into the tiniest tired smile. "And I hope you'll get along well with the..." He paused.

"What-? Jason is alive,"

[mimicking-songbird]

𝙾𝚑, 𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝??

𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎?

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛?

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That strange feeling like guilt was definitely swelling into an ugly lump in his throat now, making it hard to breath or speak. Along with a little something curling in the depths of his gut, something almost like rage.

He had no idea how to respond to that. To the fact that it was even a little bit their fault that their sweet Timmy was dead.

Behind whited-out slits his eyes turned back to rest on the Gotham skyline. Beautiful, filthy, bloody resilient city. He carred a strange, twisted pride for it. Something just as twisted but close enough to love too. How many more of his children would this horrible and wonderful city take?

After a few moments he managed to shove words around the rock in his throat.

"Have you," he paused. "Have you seen enough universes to know what would have happened if you hadn't... died." His voice sounded strangely empty.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy's expression flickered, not with the static of his form, but something more human. Thoughtful. Heavy. ]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎! 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[ He said it like a question he already knew the answer to and horrific Lee cheery for such a morbid topic ]

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜.

[ He hugged his knees, the broken camera dangling uselessly. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛.

[ He paused making a face. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 '𝚍𝚒𝚎' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

[ Tim tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚑... 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜!

[ He gestured vaguely at Bruce. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.

[ He laughed, soft and self-aware. ]

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢

[ He pulled at his face. ]

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[bleedingheart-bat]

It was your legacy too.

There was almost certainly no sane answer to anything like that. Something like gratitude, for the effort put in, and the way it saved his children to some degree, but more than that there was so much grief that to save the others it cost another of his birds.

He wanted to ask if the robins treated Tim well. If he was enough of one of them even if he was dead. And what happened to Jason if he hadn't died, if maybe all the heartache had been avoided.

"Do you know what you would have grown up to do?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice softened, a little distant, a little wistful as he kicked his feet ]

𝚄𝚖, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive but there was something careful in the way he looked away. Tim had long sense decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. What was the point, really? He'd probably just get jealous. It wasn't like he could ever have what those other Tim have. He could not grow or change or be seen by many people. He could not meet a boyfriend or a hero team. Tim was forever just a boy with a camera. Then Tim glanced back, curiosity flickering in his translucent eyes. ]

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

[bleedingheart-bat]

He wasn't sure what to say. He supposed this meant that Tim knew he would become a hero and a bat, but he wasn't sure why he'd wanted to know now. He guessed he wanted to know if his son knew that in another life he had a family that cared about him. But it would be cruel wouldn't it, to tell him about everything, and leave him with the jealousy.

Then it caught up to him and he momentarily blue screened. Since when was Tim dating? He'd never heard about this. Something to ask his Tim about later.

...Anyway.

"Will you have to go back to your home... Universe?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim scratched the back of his head, he spoke almost sheepishly, like he was admitting something he didn't usually say out loud. ]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ Tim shrugged, he'd convinced himself of it a long time ago. ]

𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎? 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝙽𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎'𝚜.

[ He pause. He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, even though it wasn't really there. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎... 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Bruce frowned tightly.

It was incredibly tempting to just ask him to stay there with them, find some semblance of a home with them regardless of life or death. Maybe he could make sure the afterlife wasn't miserable for another child he failed.

He needed to learn how this worked first.

"Will I be able to see you most of the time?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice carried a strange lightness as he spoke, like he'd already made peace with it. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢.

[ He toyed with his camera again, the broken lens catching the faint city glow, before glancing over at Bruce and letting out a small, genuine laugh. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖—

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.

[ He shrugged, there was no bitterness in it. He really just accepted it. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That.... That was disheartening. He could try to look into this though. If there wasn't a way to make the afterlife easier for Tim, he would make one.

He looked back over at the translucent figure beside him and strangely wished he could ruffle his hair or wrap an arm around his shoulders. Not that he would've if he could, purely out of fear of overstepping.

"When I'm able to see you," he started slowly. "I want you to come over. I don't want you to be alone all the time, Tim."

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's whole demeanor shifted, as a switch had been flipped. He sat up straighter, the broken camera momentarily forgotten as he stared at Bruce with open, hopeful, disbelieving eyes. ]

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝??

[ A grin broke across his face, bright and boyish, achingly alive for someone who wasn't. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕!!

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞

[bleedingheart-bat]

The moment Tim's whole demeanor flipped, Bruce knew he would not regret those words for the rest of eternity. The slightest smile settled on his face, just enough to make his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"You'll be welcomed here," he assured. "If we can't see you, you can still hang around and try talking to us."

Something a little bit like resignation settled on his face too. "...We might have some other ghosts at the manor too, if you want to talk to them."

[mimicking-songbird]

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜? 𝙾𝚑! 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?? 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖! 𝙷𝚎'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

[ Tim frowned at the look on his face. He wasn't sure if he had done something wrong or not ]

... 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢? 𝙼𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝!

[timothyjdwayne]

ATTENTION ALL TIMS(and a few special guests!!)!!!

THIS IS IMPORTANT!

I, Timothy Drake and @totallytimdrake , are starting a sleepover inside the batcave, we'll have blankets, snacks, game boards, movies, music, etc.

If you'd like to join, please do come.

Invites:

@totallynotredrobin

@no-spleen-just-trauma

@red-rob1n

@let-me-spoil-you

@thegirlblunder-spoiler

@mimicking-songbird

@tired-baby-bird

@the-spleenless-wonder

@timothy-drake-way-wayne-robin

@timdwayne

[mimicking-songbird]

𝙾𝚑! 𝙾𝚔𝚊𝚢!!

𝙸—

𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚖—

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 :<

[mimicking-songbird]

A cloaked figure kneels on the side of the grave, laying down a singular silver-sprinkled seed. Vines climb along the gravestone, growing pale-yellow and white roses and pulling together the Broken pieces of the stone. Red moss grew into the epitaph, making sure the name was visible with a splash of color. The grave itself was soon overgrown with vibrant green grass, buttercups, forget-me-nots, and baby's breath.

-⏾⋆.˚

[ Tim felt the pull before he understood it. A sharp, insistent tug behind his ribs, like someone had hooked a line through his chest and reeled him in. He didn't fight it. He didn't know how to. But when he materialized at his grave, panic flooded through him first. ]

𝙾𝚑 𝚗𝚘. 𝙾𝚑 𝚗𝚘, 𝚗𝚘, 𝚗𝚘—

[ He knew Gotham's earth wasn't stable. He'd felt it shift under his feet more times than he could count. And his grave—his grave had always been a mess. It was maybe cared for the first year he died, but as his memory faded from the living, so did the pristine cleanness of his grave. He didn't blame them, they had lives to live, and there was no need wasting it on a dead boy they didn't know was still here. So it sat. Neglected. Forgotten. A cracked headstone half-swallowed by mud and weeds. Like the rest of the Drake family cemetery. He'd made peace with that. Or told himself he had.

But this—

Tim blinked. Staring.

Vines had woven themselves through the cracks, but not to tear it apart, but to hold it together. Moss crept over the stone like a soft blanket, and flowers, flowers, bloomed in clusters around the base, bright splashes of white and gold and red against the gray Gotham dirt. Tim didn't understand.

His breath caught, even though he didn't need to breathe anymore. His soul thrummed, warmer, steadier, no longer flickering as badly as before.

It felt good to be remembered.

Tim sank to his knees, fingers brushing over a pale petal that passed through him. A small, broken sound escaped him, half laugh, half sob.

It's been so long since he's felt warm. ]

[manea-the-fey]

"Twice I tried, little one, twice I was prevented. Now I made my promise come true. I hope you like your gift freely given. As long as you want to wander, your place of rest will be protected." Manea replied, softly taking Tim in his arms to hug him.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim didn't understand.

He couldn't understand! This wasn't supposed to happen. He was dead! Just a ghost. A collection of memories and static held together by sheer stubbornness.

He wasn't supposed to feel anything anymore, least of all this.

But her arms were around him, solid and warm. Warm in a way he'd forgotten existed, in a way he didn't experience much while alive let alone while dead. The Drake's weren't cruel but they were busy. Too busy to care for their son on their own so Tim was sent away for school. Boarding school wasn't cruel or cold but his teachers had made a point to not be very touchy. They weren't trying to replace parents or undermine their values.

A sound tore out of him was raw and broken, a sob he didn't know he still had in him. He clung to her like she might like this was the last hug he would receive, small hands fisting in her sleeves, face buried in her shoulder. His whole body shook with the weight of it.

He was only nine.

And it had been so, so long since he'd felt this warm. ]

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That strange feeling like guilt was definitely swelling into an ugly lump in his throat now, making it hard to breath or speak. Along with a little something curling in the depths of his gut, something almost like rage.

He had no idea how to respond to that. To the fact that it was even a little bit their fault that their sweet Timmy was dead.

Behind whited-out slits his eyes turned back to rest on the Gotham skyline. Beautiful, filthy, bloody resilient city. He carred a strange, twisted pride for it. Something just as twisted but close enough to love too. How many more of his children would this horrible and wonderful city take?

After a few moments he managed to shove words around the rock in his throat.

"Have you," he paused. "Have you seen enough universes to know what would have happened if you hadn't... died." His voice sounded strangely empty.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy's expression flickered, not with the static of his form, but something more human. Thoughtful. Heavy. ]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎! 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[ He said it like a question he already knew the answer to and horrific Lee cheery for such a morbid topic ]

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜.

[ He hugged his knees, the broken camera dangling uselessly. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛.

[ He paused making a face. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 '𝚍𝚒𝚎' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

[ Tim tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚑... 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜!

[ He gestured vaguely at Bruce. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.

[ He laughed, soft and self-aware. ]

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢

[ He pulled at his face. ]

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[bleedingheart-bat]

It was your legacy too.

There was almost certainly no sane answer to anything like that. Something like gratitude, for the effort put in, and the way it saved his children to some degree, but more than that there was so much grief that to save the others it cost another of his birds.

He wanted to ask if the robins treated Tim well. If he was enough of one of them even if he was dead. And what happened to Jason if he hadn't died, if maybe all the heartache had been avoided.

"Do you know what you would have grown up to do?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice softened, a little distant, a little wistful as he kicked his feet ]

𝚄𝚖, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive but there was something careful in the way he looked away. Tim had long sense decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. What was the point, really? He'd probably just get jealous. It wasn't like he could ever have what those other Tim have. He could not grow or change or be seen by many people. He could not meet a boyfriend or a hero team. Tim was forever just a boy with a camera. Then Tim glanced back, curiosity flickering in his translucent eyes. ]

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

[bleedingheart-bat]

He wasn't sure what to say. He supposed this meant that Tim knew he would become a hero and a bat, but he wasn't sure why he'd wanted to know now. He guessed he wanted to know if his son knew that in another life he had a family that cared about him. But it would be cruel wouldn't it, to tell him about everything, and leave him with the jealousy.

Then it caught up to him and he momentarily blue screened. Since when was Tim dating? He'd never heard about this. Something to ask his Tim about later.

...Anyway.

"Will you have to go back to your home... Universe?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim scratched the back of his head, he spoke almost sheepishly, like he was admitting something he didn't usually say out loud. ]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ Tim shrugged, he'd convinced himself of it a long time ago. ]

𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎? 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝙽𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎'𝚜.

[ He pause. He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, even though it wasn't really there. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎... 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Bruce frowned tightly.

It was incredibly tempting to just ask him to stay there with them, find some semblance of a home with them regardless of life or death. Maybe he could make sure the afterlife wasn't miserable for another child he failed.

He needed to learn how this worked first.

"Will I be able to see you most of the time?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice carried a strange lightness as he spoke, like he'd already made peace with it. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢.

[ He toyed with his camera again, the broken lens catching the faint city glow, before glancing over at Bruce and letting out a small, genuine laugh. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖—

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.

[ He shrugged, there was no bitterness in it. He really just accepted it. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That.... That was disheartening. He could try to look into this though. If there wasn't a way to make the afterlife easier for Tim, he would make one.

He looked back over at the translucent figure beside him and strangely wished he could ruffle his hair or wrap an arm around his shoulders. Not that he would've if he could, purely out of fear of overstepping.

"When I'm able to see you," he started slowly. "I want you to come over. I don't want you to be alone all the time, Tim."

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's whole demeanor shifted, as a switch had been flipped. He sat up straighter, the broken camera momentarily forgotten as he stared at Bruce with open, hopeful, disbelieving eyes. ]

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝??

[ A grin broke across his face, bright and boyish, achingly alive for someone who wasn't. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕!!

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That strange feeling like guilt was definitely swelling into an ugly lump in his throat now, making it hard to breath or speak. Along with a little something curling in the depths of his gut, something almost like rage.

He had no idea how to respond to that. To the fact that it was even a little bit their fault that their sweet Timmy was dead.

Behind whited-out slits his eyes turned back to rest on the Gotham skyline. Beautiful, filthy, bloody resilient city. He carred a strange, twisted pride for it. Something just as twisted but close enough to love too. How many more of his children would this horrible and wonderful city take?

After a few moments he managed to shove words around the rock in his throat.

"Have you," he paused. "Have you seen enough universes to know what would have happened if you hadn't... died." His voice sounded strangely empty.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy's expression flickered, not with the static of his form, but something more human. Thoughtful. Heavy. ]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎! 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[ He said it like a question he already knew the answer to and horrific Lee cheery for such a morbid topic ]

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜.

[ He hugged his knees, the broken camera dangling uselessly. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛.

[ He paused making a face. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 '𝚍𝚒𝚎' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

[ Tim tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚑... 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜!

[ He gestured vaguely at Bruce. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.

[ He laughed, soft and self-aware. ]

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢

[ He pulled at his face. ]

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[bleedingheart-bat]

It was your legacy too.

There was almost certainly no sane answer to anything like that. Something like gratitude, for the effort put in, and the way it saved his children to some degree, but more than that there was so much grief that to save the others it cost another of his birds.

He wanted to ask if the robins treated Tim well. If he was enough of one of them even if he was dead. And what happened to Jason if he hadn't died, if maybe all the heartache had been avoided.

"Do you know what you would have grown up to do?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice softened, a little distant, a little wistful as he kicked his feet ]

𝚄𝚖, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive but there was something careful in the way he looked away. Tim had long sense decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. What was the point, really? He'd probably just get jealous. It wasn't like he could ever have what those other Tim have. He could not grow or change or be seen by many people. He could not meet a boyfriend or a hero team. Tim was forever just a boy with a camera. Then Tim glanced back, curiosity flickering in his translucent eyes. ]

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

[bleedingheart-bat]

He wasn't sure what to say. He supposed this meant that Tim knew he would become a hero and a bat, but he wasn't sure why he'd wanted to know now. He guessed he wanted to know if his son knew that in another life he had a family that cared about him. But it would be cruel wouldn't it, to tell him about everything, and leave him with the jealousy.

Then it caught up to him and he momentarily blue screened. Since when was Tim dating? He'd never heard about this. Something to ask his Tim about later.

...Anyway.

"Will you have to go back to your home... Universe?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim scratched the back of his head, he spoke almost sheepishly, like he was admitting something he didn't usually say out loud. ]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ Tim shrugged, he'd convinced himself of it a long time ago. ]

𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎? 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝙽𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎'𝚜.

[ He pause. He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, even though it wasn't really there. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎... 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Bruce frowned tightly.

It was incredibly tempting to just ask him to stay there with them, find some semblance of a home with them regardless of life or death. Maybe he could make sure the afterlife wasn't miserable for another child he failed.

He needed to learn how this worked first.

"Will I be able to see you most of the time?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice carried a strange lightness as he spoke, like he'd already made peace with it. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚢.

[ He toyed with his camera again, the broken lens catching the faint city glow, before glancing over at Bruce and letting out a small, genuine laugh. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖—

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢.

[ He shrugged, there was no bitterness in it. He really just accepted it. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎.

[mimicking-songbird]

A cloaked figure kneels on the side of the grave, laying down a singular silver-sprinkled seed. Vines climb along the gravestone, growing pale-yellow and white roses and pulling together the Broken pieces of the stone. Red moss grew into the epitaph, making sure the name was visible with a splash of color. The grave itself was soon overgrown with vibrant green grass, buttercups, forget-me-nots, and baby's breath.

-⏾⋆.˚

[ Tim felt the pull before he understood it. A sharp, insistent tug behind his ribs, like someone had hooked a line through his chest and reeled him in. He didn't fight it. He didn't know how to. But when he materialized at his grave, panic flooded through him first. ]

𝙾𝚑 𝚗𝚘. 𝙾𝚑 𝚗𝚘, 𝚗𝚘, 𝚗𝚘—

[ He knew Gotham's earth wasn't stable. He'd felt it shift under his feet more times than he could count. And his grave—his grave had always been a mess. It was maybe cared for the first year he died, but as his memory faded from the living, so did the pristine cleanness of his grave. He didn't blame them, they had lives to live, and there was no need wasting it on a dead boy they didn't know was still here. So it sat. Neglected. Forgotten. A cracked headstone half-swallowed by mud and weeds. Like the rest of the Drake family cemetery. He'd made peace with that. Or told himself he had.

But this—

Tim blinked. Staring.

Vines had woven themselves through the cracks, but not to tear it apart, but to hold it together. Moss crept over the stone like a soft blanket, and flowers, flowers, bloomed in clusters around the base, bright splashes of white and gold and red against the gray Gotham dirt. Tim didn't understand.

His breath caught, even though he didn't need to breathe anymore. His soul thrummed, warmer, steadier, no longer flickering as badly as before.

It felt good to be remembered.

Tim sank to his knees, fingers brushing over a pale petal that passed through him. A small, broken sound escaped him, half laugh, half sob.

It's been so long since he's felt warm. ]

[whale-with-legs]

Wild children spotted👀👀

🦇：……do you want to pick a colour?

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That strange feeling like guilt was definitely swelling into an ugly lump in his throat now, making it hard to breath or speak. Along with a little something curling in the depths of his gut, something almost like rage.

He had no idea how to respond to that. To the fact that it was even a little bit their fault that their sweet Timmy was dead.

Behind whited-out slits his eyes turned back to rest on the Gotham skyline. Beautiful, filthy, bloody resilient city. He carred a strange, twisted pride for it. Something just as twisted but close enough to love too. How many more of his children would this horrible and wonderful city take?

After a few moments he managed to shove words around the rock in his throat.

"Have you," he paused. "Have you seen enough universes to know what would have happened if you hadn't... died." His voice sounded strangely empty.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy's expression flickered, not with the static of his form, but something more human. Thoughtful. Heavy. ]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎! 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[ He said it like a question he already knew the answer to and horrific Lee cheery for such a morbid topic ]

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜.

[ He hugged his knees, the broken camera dangling uselessly. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛.

[ He paused making a face. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 '𝚍𝚒𝚎' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

[ Tim tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚑... 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜!

[ He gestured vaguely at Bruce. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.

[ He laughed, soft and self-aware. ]

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢

[ He pulled at his face. ]

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[bleedingheart-bat]

It was your legacy too.

There was almost certainly no sane answer to anything like that. Something like gratitude, for the effort put in, and the way it saved his children to some degree, but more than that there was so much grief that to save the others it cost another of his birds.

He wanted to ask if the robins treated Tim well. If he was enough of one of them even if he was dead. And what happened to Jason if he hadn't died, if maybe all the heartache had been avoided.

"Do you know what you would have grown up to do?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice softened, a little distant, a little wistful as he kicked his feet ]

𝚄𝚖, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive but there was something careful in the way he looked away. Tim had long sense decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. What was the point, really? He'd probably just get jealous. It wasn't like he could ever have what those other Tim have. He could not grow or change or be seen by many people. He could not meet a boyfriend or a hero team. Tim was forever just a boy with a camera. Then Tim glanced back, curiosity flickering in his translucent eyes. ]

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

[bleedingheart-bat]

He wasn't sure what to say. He supposed this meant that Tim knew he would become a hero and a bat, but he wasn't sure why he'd wanted to know now. He guessed he wanted to know if his son knew that in another life he had a family that cared about him. But it would be cruel wouldn't it, to tell him about everything, and leave him with the jealousy.

Then it caught up to him and he momentarily blue screened. Since when was Tim dating? He'd never heard about this. Something to ask his Tim about later.

...Anyway.

"Will you have to go back to your home... Universe?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim scratched the back of his head, he spoke almost sheepishly, like he was admitting something he didn't usually say out loud. ]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ Tim shrugged, he'd convinced himself of it a long time ago. ]

𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎? 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝙽𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎'𝚜.

[ He pause. He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, even though it wasn't really there. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎... 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That strange feeling like guilt was definitely swelling into an ugly lump in his throat now, making it hard to breath or speak. Along with a little something curling in the depths of his gut, something almost like rage.

He had no idea how to respond to that. To the fact that it was even a little bit their fault that their sweet Timmy was dead.

Behind whited-out slits his eyes turned back to rest on the Gotham skyline. Beautiful, filthy, bloody resilient city. He carred a strange, twisted pride for it. Something just as twisted but close enough to love too. How many more of his children would this horrible and wonderful city take?

After a few moments he managed to shove words around the rock in his throat.

"Have you," he paused. "Have you seen enough universes to know what would have happened if you hadn't... died." His voice sounded strangely empty.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy's expression flickered, not with the static of his form, but something more human. Thoughtful. Heavy. ]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎! 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[ He said it like a question he already knew the answer to and horrific Lee cheery for such a morbid topic ]

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜.

[ He hugged his knees, the broken camera dangling uselessly. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛.

[ He paused making a face. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 '𝚍𝚒𝚎' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

[ Tim tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚑... 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜!

[ He gestured vaguely at Bruce. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.

[ He laughed, soft and self-aware. ]

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢

[ He pulled at his face. ]

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[bleedingheart-bat]

It was your legacy too.

There was almost certainly no sane answer to anything like that. Something like gratitude, for the effort put in, and the way it saved his children to some degree, but more than that there was so much grief that to save the others it cost another of his birds.

He wanted to ask if the robins treated Tim well. If he was enough of one of them even if he was dead. And what happened to Jason if he hadn't died, if maybe all the heartache had been avoided.

"Do you know what you would have grown up to do?"

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim's voice softened, a little distant, a little wistful as he kicked his feet ]

𝚄𝚖, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[ He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive but there was something careful in the way he looked away. Tim had long sense decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. What was the point, really? He'd probably just get jealous. It wasn't like he could ever have what those other Tim have. He could not grow or change or be seen by many people. He could not meet a boyfriend or a hero team. Tim was forever just a boy with a camera. Then Tim glanced back, curiosity flickering in his translucent eyes. ]

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

That strange feeling like guilt was definitely swelling into an ugly lump in his throat now, making it hard to breath or speak. Along with a little something curling in the depths of his gut, something almost like rage.

He had no idea how to respond to that. To the fact that it was even a little bit their fault that their sweet Timmy was dead.

Behind whited-out slits his eyes turned back to rest on the Gotham skyline. Beautiful, filthy, bloody resilient city. He carred a strange, twisted pride for it. Something just as twisted but close enough to love too. How many more of his children would this horrible and wonderful city take?

After a few moments he managed to shove words around the rock in his throat.

"Have you," he paused. "Have you seen enough universes to know what would have happened if you hadn't... died." His voice sounded strangely empty.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy's expression flickered, not with the static of his form, but something more human. Thoughtful. Heavy. ]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎! 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[ He said it like a question he already knew the answer to and horrific Lee cheery for such a morbid topic ]

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜.

[ He hugged his knees, the broken camera dangling uselessly. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛.

[ He paused making a face. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 '𝚍𝚒𝚎' 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

[ Tim tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ]

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚞𝚑... 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜!

[ He gestured vaguely at Bruce. ]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.

[ He laughed, soft and self-aware. ]

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢

[ He pulled at his face. ]

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

The cold string squeezing his chest went a little bit slacker, letting him breathe. The next immediate feeling was guilt that he was relieved.

This was wrong. Horribly wrong. Maybe he could convince this ghost to stay? If that were possible, would he want to since they were so obviously late to save him?

"...How...?"

His mouth felt strangely dry but he managed that one word.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ The boy laughed, light, easy, like they were swapping stories over coffee instead of perched on a rooftop with one of them half-faded into the night. ]

𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

[ He shrugged, unconcerned, but his camera apparently had other opinions. The lenses and flash shattered with a sharp, bright pop, fragments raining down into the dark. Making the boy yelp in surprise as it practically exploded in his hands. ]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...

[ He sighed, staring at the broken remains like he'd lost an old friend. Then, as if remembering, he perked up. ]

𝙾𝚑! 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏.

[ He tilted his head, gaze distant as he stared at the beautiful and violent city that had killed him. ]

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕..."

[ He mimed a shove with both hands. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊. 𝙼𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Something drew tight in his posture as he heard the voice and his head turned slowly.

Too young. That was the first thing he noticed about the small, ghostly figure beside him. Obviously dead. And far too young.

It felt like someone had dropped an ice cube in his blood. That was his baby bird, his son. Why was he...? This had to be some trick of the multiverse, right?

"Tim?" He eventually managed quietly.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim let out a soft hum, fingers curling around the ledge as he peered down at the city lights below. His legs swung idly, weightless. ]

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎! 𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎?

[ He paused thoughtfully. ]

𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

[ with the next wind gusted he flickered, static eating away at his edges before be became more solid again. He caught the view, raised his old camera, and click, captured the skyline in a burst of flash. Then he turned, catching the look on Batman's face. That strange, sad, horrified confusion that made him laugh, bright and maybe a little hollow. ]

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘.

[ He offered a small, crooked smile. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔."

[ He hugged the camera to his chest. Fidgeting with his camera zoom. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍.

[bleedingheart-bat]

Open RP - Place of laughing memories.

// No DNI, anyone can interact, but please leave NSFW and batcest at the door. \\

Raven feathers fluttered lazily in the slow wind drifting across the gotham rooftops. His wings were folded neatly to his back, starting to cramp a little bit. He stretched them out slowly.

Beautiful night. Slow night.

It was a beautiful view. Nice little ledge, big enough for five or so to sit comfortably at a time, and you could see most of the brightest city lights and still some of the stars.

This wasn't an unfamiliar place. For one, he knew every corner of Gotham. For another...

He remembered cackling laughter and sweet smiles with missing teeth and a little boy that showed him this place.. He remembered sweet laughter and lopsided smiles and a little boy who followed him here years later. He remembered a watchful eye and the click of a camera and another sweet boy who saw them here. He remembered the stubborn redhead who butted her way in and dragged him here when she decided he needed rest. Then the quiet girl with sticky ice cream on her face asking him if he knew nice places to watch the skyline. A wild, eager blonde who lit up like a lighthouse when he showed her this place. His own flesh and blood, who'd been quiet for a long time, but who failed just barely to hide his joy at being included.

It was their place. Their special place. His lips twitched with a smile at the memories.

[mimicking-songbird]

[ Tim materialized beside the winged man, settling onto the ledge like he'd been there all along. ]

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

[ He wasn't his Batman. His own still couldn't see him unlike his Robin but this one was close enough, and more importantly, he could be seen. Tim couldn't resist. He missed conversation, even if he'd rarely sought it out when he was alive. Dead or not, he was still human. Still craved connection, even if he could no longer truly reach it.

He flickered in the breeze, a loose feather drifting through his translucent form. An old flash camera dangled from his fingers. ]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚒𝚖. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝.