#* v: task mastering.

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   “i’m sorry               you want me to do what?”

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flychild replied to your post: hey, skulls. causing trouble?

maybe its because you always cause the trouble?

   “debatable.”

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@ppoolio (cont.)

   “... alright, one? do i even wanna know what you were getting at walmart? and two? who the fuck actually buys food at any fast food place in a WALMART?”

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@flychild ; KISSING STRANGERS

   The way he looks at him makes him think this has happened several times. He knows he should be feeling guilty, but all he feels is APATHY. It’s awkward with the way Dick is staring at him, the wetness at the edges of his eyes and the pouting of his lips. Tony doesn’t know how to RESPOND to it. He doesn’t need to focus too hard on him to read what’s on his mind, not when it’s so blatantly obvious. Apologizing feels wrong ( how many times has he apologized before? dick would know ) and he can’t promise to remember anything ( it’s always a surprise - just like RIGHT NOW when he just remembered that he was dating the HERO OF BLUDHAVEN and shouldn’t be taking up this bounty to kill him ), so he’ll take whatever harsh words Dick has to say to him. 

   “I’ll give you the rundown, Dick,” he says softly, it’s a sensitive subject and he tries not to be cold about it and make it seem like he’s treating it like it’s a business meeting, “from what I’ve recently remembered... it feels like we’ve only been together for 2 weeks. At most. But it’s probably been longer, hasn’t it? Several months.” How many times has he given this speech? He sighs, pulling his hood and mask off so it doesn’t seem like he’s hiding, and looks at Dick. “But that’s where I’m at right now.”

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@crowbarboy (cont.)

   “...”    He doesn’t exactly know what makes him approach the kid. Feeling bad for him is one thing, but going out of his way to get him something to eat at the convenience store right next door is another. ( in the recesses of his mind, there’s a memory of two little boys            they’re hungry           they still need to find food for their           )

   Taskmaster holds the bag of food in front of him for the boy, baiting him into coming out of his little huddle against the wall. “There’s two bottles of water, a hot dog, a pretzel, a bag of chips, and even a Hershey's bar. There’s no catch. You just look hungry.”

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‘ i can’t have anyone else in my head again. i’m done. ‘

   “Look, Wade, I DON’T CARE what’s goin’ on with you or what’s in your head.”    ( he cares, he really does. WADE IS HIS FRIEND, although you’ll never catch him admit it. because even though he can’t COPY wade’s moves, he somehow remembers him. tony figures that means something - or deadpool is just THAT ANNOYING. )

   “I don’t care, but you know what I do care about? Getting this mission done. So, pal, nut up and get your head on straight - WE’RE FINISHING THIS.” 

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‘ we got really good at it. winning. ‘

   HE USED TO BE A GOOD MAN.   AND HE CHOSE TO GAVE IT ALL AWAY.

   He feels his sins crawling up his back, the guilt building at the pool of his gut - but he doesn’t care. He can’t be bothered to. Not when he doesn’t remember why the feelings are there in the first place. It’s always soft whispers of memories at the edge of his mind - distorted voices, blurred faces, hazy background.  

   “We got really good at it. Winning,” Nightwing says.   “Sounds like you were part of a dream team,” Taskmaster replies.

   And he wonders what ‘we’ means for himself. Who was he with? Did they WIN? SHIELD has a dossier on him. It’s his only access to his past self. He doesn’t look at it. He probably already has at least five times, had a crisis over it, only to forget about it all within a week. He has a FAMILY, only because he figures he has to - he had to have come from somewhere. His values, his being as a person, BUILT from somewhere. They all probably think he’s dead. It’s better that way. He wouldn’t want to face them, if he already hasn’t, and tell them he forgot all about them. 

   It’s already something he has to deal with facing Dick Grayson. When he’s clutching at memories of him and comes back empty handed and they have to start ALL OVER AGAIN. 

   “We,” Taskmaster starts, taking Nightwing’s hand in his before he can fly away to another roof, “can get really good at it too. WINNING.” He squeezes his hand, clutching the here and now of Dick Grayson. “Me and you.”