#waketalk

[roman-winter]

just a friendly reminder that we’re going to be doing wake acceptances tonite around 7pm EST, so if you’re wanting to apply (especially for characters with apps already) today is the day!! i’ll be around most of the afternoon, so hmu if you have any questions!!

[roman-winter]

TWO DAYS UNTIL WAKE ACCEPTANCES!!! i’m gonna be chilling all day, making sure these initial “missions” i’ve written make sense lmao, so hmu if you have any questions if you’re working on apps! 

[chrysalis-writes]

littlebeetle-rita replied to your post: hc: Dick doesn’t speak any Spanish which is a...

Lmao please omg my Mexican soul can’t take this. Barbara would so do this

poor Dick :C :C :C

[chrysalis-writes]

hc: Dick doesn’t speak any Spanish which is a Thing he Regrets now that Jason speaks exclusively Spanish whenever he’s being difficult so he’s Trying Very Valiantly and not very successfully to learn it on duolingo 

[chrysalis-writes]

considering the pros and cons of headcanoning Dick Grayson as being like 5′6″ tall

[roman-winter]

quick update for wake!! christine and i decided to go ahead and set an acceptance date bc we’re so excited to start and we don’t want to keep those who have already applied waiting. SO we’ll be accepting on the night of monday sept. 12!! we don’t have a specific time yet, but we’ll let everyone know with ample time before. meanwhile, let either of us know if you have questions!!

[roman-winter]

Jason beating Tim with the crowbar. (:

wow, mel. wow. :))))))))))))

the crowbar incident

It wasn’t a surprise meeting, exactly, even if Tim might’ve planned for it to be

Jason knew someone would figure out where he was going after the cleanup he was doing of Gotham; they were the world’s greatest detective’s protégés after all. Even if they didn’t realize who he was, they were smart enough to deduce things. He wasn’t a fuckin’ idiot. There were only so many viable hideouts in Gotham, anyway, and an abandoned subway tunnel wasn’t exactly the most groundbreaking of ideas for a “secret hideout.” He’d been working on limited time with limited resources, and it was better than nothing. Besides, hadn’t he been taught that underground was the way to go?

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when Tim showed up on night, all decked out and so pleased with his little discovery. It was funny. There had been no plan for this, he hadn’t made a decision for what he would do when Dick or Tim or any of the others inevitably found him. He’d been certain it would happen, but honestly? It was like he’d been waiting for it.

Waiting for it, not completely sure what would happen when they did find him.

Maybe part of him was hoping it would be Dick. Maybe part of him was hoping for an emotional reunion, a grand explanation of what he had been doing and why. A tearful apology if he was lucky. Just something. 

As soon as he saw Tim, though, he realized that this was what he needed. He didn’t need a reunion, he didn’t need an apology. Nothing would change anything that Bruce did. He’d already started to succeed in showing them that his way was the best way, even if they didn’t realize it. But more than that he needed something else. He was still so angry. And this would be revenge. 

Revenge for being forgotten, revenge for being replaced, revenge for being left behind.

It was too easy to lead him on a chase through the tunnels. Jason knew them well, unlike Tim, and he knew that that would be the only way that he could possibly get what he wanted. He’d been told, time and time again, how much better Dick was than him, how much better Tim was than him at everything. There was no way he was a match in close, hand-to-hand combat. But a firearm seemed a bit overkill.

Especially when there was something more personal.

They’d finally come to a stop from the chase in what seemed to be a half-constructed, but abandoned part of the tunnels. Jason knew the place, had already scooped it out weeks before, had already set the explosives weeks before. 

[Had already seen that there were several crowbars there weeks before.]

And so the fight had started. Of course, even Tim was of the vein that the best course of action would be a few words between all of the too easy dodging, a vague plea for Jason to just stop all of the “nonsense” and come with him. As if any of it would work. He should’ve known better than to think it would, probably did, considering how hard he was fighting.

Considering the force with which he finally managed to kick Jason in the stomach, hard enough to knock him backwards to the ground. 

“This is pointless, Jason, you’re not our enemy!”

He was better than him. It was true. If this had been a fair fight, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. Too bad it wasn’t.

“You know… if I’m going to be the new Batman around here, I need a Robin. And I’ve heard you were such a good Robin, Timmy,” he mused from the ground, hand finding the crowbar, gripping it as if his life depended on it. 

He heard Tim let out a sigh, closer than he had thought he was. Maybe he thought that a kick to the gut was enough to stop him. Maybe he’d forgotten that he’d died. 

Perfect. 

Jason swung around, catching Tim just barely off guard, but enough that the crowbar made contact with his ribcage painfully, sending him down to his knees, giving Jason enough time to pin him to the ground, crowbar across his throat, straddling him.

“I heard you were better than me, that’s for damn sure. Hijo de puta,” he spat, lifting the crowbar, ready to bring it down on his head.

And then out of nowhere there was blinding pain in his side, the rusted, but still dangerous batarang Tim had managed to pull out piercing through Jason’s makeshift armor easily. It was enough to give Tim the opportunity to push Jason off of him, letting the batarang fall to the ground, enough time to start a call back to Alfred or Dick or whoever, but it wasn’t enough to keep Jason down. This was nothing compared to being shot in the chest.

Swing, dodge, swing, dodge. He could feel his body getting tired, his side searing with pain, but then Tim seemed the same. And and he finally hit. A low blow to the kneecap putting him on the ground, followed by one, two, three to the stomach in rapid succession.

“It wouldn’t be fair if I left your face alone,” Jason croaked looking down at him. He was impressed, for a brief second, that Tim didn’t beg him not to, didn’t ask him to stop, but stared up at him, not with anger, but... was that fucking pity?

He finished with the head, just how the Joker had started. But he didn’t bother to make sure he was dead. For once, the smell of blood was making him sick to his stomach, the wound only making him dizzier. 

Leave.  

Jason threw the crowbar down with a deafening clang and started back towards the tunnel’s entrance, clutching his bleeding side.

“I wonder if he’ll bury you next to me...”

[roman-winter]

THE SHOWER HEADCANONS. 

Poison Ivy:

Showering used to be hard. No. Being naked used to be hard. Patrick had perfected the art of changing as quickly as possible, of being as covered up at all times as he could, but showers were another thing entirely. It was impossible not to be aware of every little imperfection, every part of yourself that wasn’t what you wanted in the shower. Every morning used to be a test of strength. Will today be the day when you finally catch your reflection in the mirror and feel happy with what you see? Will today be the day that you run your fingers over your body and like what you feel? And the answer was always no, even after the surgery, even after he’d gone back to school, even after he’d found a boyfriend who seemed to like him just the way he was.

It’s different now, though. It changed after Ivy realized how his body was changing not because of the hormones, but because of the toxins. Now, caring for his own body feels like caring for the plants. Washing the vine-like veins running all over his body, down his chest, his arms, his legs, covering and caressing the parts of his body he’s never liked feels like a gentle mercy. It’s still not something he particularly enjoys, but it’s not nearly as traumatic as it was before becoming Poison Ivy. There is less angry washing, as if scrubbing hard enough might erase the less than ideal parts of himself, and there is more gentle massaging. This body was made better by disaster, this body was made better by the unnatural and organic. It deserves a break. It deserves to be loved.

He is more gentle with himself now.

Jason Todd:

Jason has always appreciated a warm shower. Mostly because there have been too many chunks of time in his life in which he hasn’t had a warm shower to wash away the grim and the dirt and the blood. If he could, he would spend hours in the shower, not even doing anything, just standing there letting the water warm him. Shower thoughts are Jason’s jam. The shit he comes up with during those long showers is ridiculous, and quite often lead to bad decisions outside of the shower.

It’s a good thing that Jason never had to share a bathroom with anyone else since the Manor had more than enough bathrooms for everyone when he was still there, because he’s one of those people who get in the shower after waking up and proceeds to stand there in a daze for forty-five minutes, actually having finished washing everything in the first few minutes of the shower. 

As it were, since coming back to Gotham, Jason’s become a pretty big fan of long, relaxing baths, often times including a Lush bath bomb––his favorite being the sadly discontinued Space Girl. He’s been known to fall asleep in said baths only to wake up an hour and a half later in shivering and pruny and significantly less relaxed than before [as if Jason is ever relaxed].