Sep 17, 2021
“The mere idea of you being able to sneak up on me is hysterical.”
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“The mere idea of you being able to sneak up on me is hysterical.”
DESCRIPTIONS OF [ REDACTED ] FROM MORI’S MUTUALS’ MUSES [ PT. 1 ]
09-22-2021 ft. @hermarks / 09-03-2021 ft. @dayshero / 09-26-2021 ft. @truthsaved / 09-20-2021 ft. @reclusived / 09-01-2021 ft. @aphorysms
@dayshero : “ was that a friend of yours? ”
“ No. He is not. ” There’s a present frown, her gaze away from Duke and trained carefully on the stranger that merely bumped her shoulder and muttered her name. It was a taunt, one she was resisting giving in to. “ Lucky guess. ” It was not.
@dayshero // continued.
“Relax, this isn’t some shake down or a shovel talk.” A lazy wave of his hand is suffice enough it seems to get Duke to settle down beside him, Red Robin does a quick study of the other before turning his attention back down to the constant flow of traffic. Tim can’t blame Duke’s jumpiness, between covert ops and chaotic family get togethers they haven’t really had a chance to talk to each other one on one. To be fair with his muddled social and personal lives, juggling things at Gotham U, working part time at Wayne Enterprises and still superheroing he has never actually spent any time with Duke.
But from what he can gauge the newest bird in their flock seems to be picking everything up well enough. A little support never hurts though. “If Batman really needs any of us we’d know by now.”
“You... settle in okay? Alfred showed you everything in the manor, around the manor and under the manor? Damian hasn’t put any smoke bombs in your bathroom yet?” Tim asks, digging into a pouch on his utility belt to grab out two mini airhead bars to offer Duke. “Sorry for all the questions but.. I know it takes a hot minute to really adjust.”
@dayshero said : “ i like figuring you out. you’re so human and puzzling. ”
if jason’s eyebrow could lift any higher, it would reach well past his hairline. instead he settles for the way it arches as he stares across the countertop at the unwelcome guest that’s seemed to start believing he lives here. eyes tick down to the open pizza box sitting on the counter, at the half and half toppings when a commonality couldn’t be reached. as if it’s an act of defiance jason snatches up a slice from his side of the pizza and huffs.
“ that’s a real fuckin’ weird way of asking why i won’t eat olives. ” punctuated with a pointed bite as he shrugs dismissively towards their difference in opinion.
@dayshero | plotted starter.
it was always going to be right place, right time, wrong move. no escaping it, and no trouble quite like the trouble jason seems hell - bent on attracting. smears of bloody fingertips paint macabre imagery along the wall, red streaks between imprints of jason’s hand where it braces with each heavy step down the hallway as he slowly makes for the exit.
knives shouldn’t be able to pierce his kevlar, not like this. not this deep. scratches and grazes were typical, commonplace even, but to fully embed steel through two layers of reinforced fabric & plating and into the body beneath ... it shouldn’t have been possible, and yet the jagged laceration beneath his ribs and the mangled flesh of his left shoulder tell differently. teeth grit with painful ferocity, in tandem with clenched jaw, sucking in choppy breaths and releasing them with the same sharp sound.
undamaged shoulder pushes against the last barrier from escape, and the side door squeaks in heavy protest as jason finally gets it open and for a split second he revels in the familiar chill of the night air. but then eyes lose focus, feet lose balance, and he’s stumbling into the alley without a shred of grace left to cushion the movements. a dense crack as head hits pavement, jostling free a previously repressed grunt as pain rockets anew through his body. it feels like fighting sleep paralysis, and it’s becoming increasingly clear how little a chance there is of making it alone.
maybe no one will find him in time. maybe the stupid little beacon dick forced into his hands last encounter ( the one that would supposedly work on any nearby bat’s comm frequency ) wouldn’t even work. but it’s a last ditch effort, or jason isn’t going to see sunrise. final bits of strength channeled to reach into the back pouch of his belt, blood - stained fingers clasping around the small button, trying not to think about the amount of effort it takes just to click the damn thing.
lashes flutter against paling cheek, tunnel vision swarming and wreaking havoc on what little awareness jason thought he had managed to maintain. he chokes on the blood caking his throat, around the piercing agony attacking from all sides, and feels a frighteningly familiar chill spread across his body.
someone ... anyone ...
five times touched (only if you want to!)
five times touched ! - accepting.
1. there’s no accounting for what happens at 3am, when the emptiness of his apartment turns out to be not so empty, and really if he’d accidentally shot duke, it would’ve been the hero’s own fault for turning up unannounced ( okay, he would’ve felt a little guilty ). the firearm lowers and next thing he knows he’s spending the next two hours he could be sleeping with an off - duty bat in his living room and even worse, he doesn’t hate it. they snark back and forth, more quips than actual talk, but it’s easy, feels more earnest than any in depth conversation would have. and at the end of it all, jason pats his hand against duke’s shoulder as the other leaves, tells him, “ text first next time, dumb ass, ” before he shuts the door and finally goes to bed.
2. it’s not that he doesn’t know how; jason spent the first five years of his crime - fighting career as part of a dynamic duo, that sort of training doesn’t just disappear. he knows how to be part of a team. but it’s been an equally long amount of time now that he’s been fighting on his own, sticking to his own code and his own style, so suddenly finding himself regularly roped into unintentional team - ups still takes some getting used to, what with how startling it can be to realize how naturally it all comes back. they react well to one another, matching footwork with traded blows as they breeze through the crowd of thugs who likely regret thinking a lone hero & vigilante would be easy targets. the upper hand remains theirs without so much as breaking a sweat - until suddenly the ground beneath duke’s feet gives way and in exchange for a blow cuffed against the side of his head, jason abandons his current tangle to spring the length of the shoddy rooftop and slide in enough time to catch both duke’s hand and a protruding piece of pipe before they both go over the edge. a sharp grunt reveals the effort of suddenly supporting them both on such an unstable handhold. “ the fuck that armor made of, steel?! ”
3. no one wants to think they aren’t enough; jason’s far too familiar with the sensation to let it go by unnoticed when it crosses duke’s face. the hero has fixed himself to the edge of the fire escape, legs dangling and palms braced against the railing, the particular downward curve of his mouth souring as he watches the scene unfold below and jason already knows what’s in his thoughts without needing it vocalized. all in all it hadn’t been the worst outcome - everyone who should have walks away without too much fuss, save for one individual who disappears into the back of an ambulance with a thick pad of reddening gauze taped around her stomach. an individual who had moved despite their warnings to keep still, who had panicked and tried to rabbit and found herself on the unforgiving end of a stomachful of gunpowder from one of the gunmen before either jason or duke could do anything about it. jason takes the climb slowly to the level the hero’s chosen to inhabit, claps a hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “ paramedics said she’ll be fine. shot wasn’t fatal. ” a long silence. “ so. you gonna sit here and sulk or you gonna get up and come with me so we can catch the bastard? ”
4. his ears are still ringing. consciousness comes around slowly, tilting the world all different directions before it finally settles upright and the nausea ebbs. his head aches something fucking awful, bound hands reaching up in roped tandem to press the heel of a palm against throbbing temple and gravitating north until fingers reach the growing welt just past his hairline, dragging a sharp hiss through clenched teeth at the pain. when it numbs long enough for jason to open his eyes a sliver, there’s the hazy image of something golden yellow amidst an otherwise dark and grimy concrete room. a borderline annoyed grunt of effort as jason drags his aching body over to duke’s still unmoving form, hands straining against the ropes around his wrists to shove the hero’s shoulder - pushing him onto his back, checking for a pulse even if he doesn’t necessarily need to ( doesn’t matter what he knows, he needs to feel the heartbeat ). “ c’mon, ” jason coughs out, throat unused and dry. “ nap time’s over, sleeping beauty, and i’m not dragging your unconscious ass out of here. ”
5. “ oh would you can it. ” a hard shove nearly topples duke from his spot seated on the edge of the building, a flailing of limbs and muttered indignation the only things keeping the hero from tipping back onto the rooftop behind them. the digs about jason’s grocery habits - and by extension apparently his eating tendencies - have become something of a running gag, apparently. jason’s arrival and offering of take - out met with commentary of, ‘ oh so he DOES eat, ’ to which jason is about two seconds away from taking duke’s share of the food just to make a point. even goes as far as to swat a hand towards the other’s sandwich as if he were attempting to slap it out of tight grasp. “ next time you can buy your own mid - patrol snack, if you’re gonna be a smart - ass about it. ” it’s sharp bickering and taunting tongues, but there’s no real malice. dick would call it brotherly bonding, or something else equally fucking dumb. and jason has no desire to let dick find out that he’s right.
@dayshero asked: “ just stay there — i’ll come for you! ”
❝ NO ! ❞
she can see him only a few rooftops over, but she s h r i e k s it over the comms. cass can already feel the building she’s in coming down, the byproduct of the earthquake that’s trying to SWALLOW gotham once more. if she didn’t think duke was about to do something beyond stupid, she would be laughing at the irony of it all.
an earthquake is what put her in gotham, and an earthquake is about to take her out of it.
❝ make sure everyone is... safe. away from the ground. nobody else... has to DIE. ❞ she presses her hand against the glass wall, watching her brother run like the devil himself is chasing him. he won’t get to her in time.
as the floor gives out beneath her, cass is grateful for that.