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Date & Time: Jan 18-23
Location: Lots of bars. Lots of dark, unpleasant places.
Characters: Jason Todd the Grump and whoever decides to interrupt his willful ignoring everything.
Summary: Jason Todd is willfully ignoring everything and spending most of his time up on lonely rooftops and occasionally drinking.
Warnings: idk, gloomy bullshit, swearing, we'll see.

[ Okay. Jason wasn't an idiot. It was really kind of obvious he wasn't going to be able to avoid everyone forever. Exsilium wasn't Gotham and there just weren't enough places he could go until he just. Ran into somebody.

Maybe he'd even run into Dick or that tiny girl Robin. Or Joey... Though that didn't bear thinking about. Running into them eventually didn't mean running into them immediately. All Jason wanted was space. He needed to reorganize himself, needed to separate himself from the memories that of this place that still floated through his head. Exsilium wasn't Gotham, but Jason was still himself. The holster under his jacket was a reminder of that. So he spent most of his time in bars, in the darker, shadowy parts, nursing a drink and listening. The rest of the time, he wandered, relearning the alleyways and rooftops of this weird ass city. If nothing else, he'd be prepared for however long he'd be staying here. ]

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Oh, pardon me, two horses.

[ There's a flare of amusement, but it fades quickly. ]

Wonder if this is part of time breaking down. [ And it's probably for the better that he doesn't focus on the idea of going back in his own timeline. He blows out a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. ]

The things that happened didn't feel like they lasted very long. Or. They don't now. [Which isn't entierly true. Russia had flown by compared to his memories of the caverns and the stink of poison gas. ]

< Nope, I'm pretty sure this is all part of the UE's response to -- um. Unexpected boulder attacks. >

( Caesar had told her he wouldn't advise owning up to her part in Sollux's rubble toss at the UE's capitol. She understood at the time why he said what he said, and part of her agreed -- she'd still confessed.

They'd brushed her off, saying they knew she didn't have those sorts of powers, and she was left feeling uneasy in the aftermath. Accountability... wasn't that supposed to be important? When the only person who'd come close to being really angry with her was Caesar, and he'd walked away without yelling, wasn't that messed up?

She shifts closer, head lowering as they go on. One ear stays fixed on her companion. The other moves around, flicking toward the origins of sounds she's picking up and categorizing with a different part of her mind. )

< If that's the case, I wonder if you'll be saying the same thing if you lose time again and end up like when I first met you. >

( In a conversational enough tone, as she lifts her head again. Chin up, focus on what there is to find out there, Collette! Her internal peptalks are a salve for her confusions. )

< If any of us dwelled on just how bad things have been, there'd be no place for us to go. So we make our own lives up here, and we live, and we fight, and we put the memories behind us as best we can. The nightmares are a different thing, but you wake up from those. >

( Mostly. Confession and observation and partial lie, Collette still sounds little more than factual. )

< Sunshine or no sunshine, there's still a new day dawning out there somewhere! >

[ He snorts. ]

Very inspirational.

[ Yeah, bright kids like her really didn't fit with the fucked up life he'd picked out for himself. At least he was past the worst of it, he'd been feeling almost stable. Or had, anyway.

He sighs. ]

Hard to put memories behind you when you find you've got a whole lot that you didn't have before.

[ He glances down at her. ]

Like you, for instance.

( She gives another wag of her tail when he mentions her, laughter more of a mental impression than something precisely 'heard.' )

< Way to flatter a girl! On again off again memories has to be a whole new time-traveling bother. Though it's nice you do remember me! It's got to be something with how so many people are changing points in time right now, and it's kinder than what Vanadi has to live with. >

( She's teasing, but she may as well not have been. It's true in this case.

She finds it curious that it is the way this work, that whole sets of memories can be repressed and recalled based on... what. The trigger of a location? The mind is a tricky place as it is, and the inconsistent results across people she's met while everyone's gone wonky might make sense if it's tied in to this place. )

< Then you do forget everything when you go back. >

( She doesn't let her disappointment color her mental voice. It's one of the benefits to being in morph, though more of it shows in how her head dips and her ears twitch back before she literally shakes it off. )

< At least for now! >

( Probably forever, but she has to wonder, deep down, if there's any way to just... not go back at all. )

[ He's not sure "nice" is the word he'd use. It's weird being around a girl he remembers having a crush on when he was a kid, even though Jason was positive he'd never seen her face to face before just now.

Part of him wants to ask her to morph human, just so he can connect the real face with the vague memories. He watches her head drop out of the corner of his eye. ]

We don't know how the machine works. Technically, I don't know if I ever even went back.

[ He realizes he's trying to make her feel better, maybe apologize? For what? ]

( One ear twitches his way, head canting to the side so she can look up his direction with greater ease. It's all done with a more human flair, none of the sort of devoted canine theatrics of a dog waiting on someone else's cues to tell them what to do. )

< Would it be better or worse for you if you didn't? >

( She surprises herself with how much she wants to know. )

[ He stops walking. That's just. Right out there. And he realizes that no one other than Kate has really out right asked him what happened. He's used to a universe that know who he is, knows his fuck ups.

He realizes that he's staring down at her. He. Should probably say something. ]

I want to see your real face.

[ ...Okay, not that. He turns away and rubs a hand over his face. ]

Fuck. It doesn't matter. Here's the same as home, just a different set of people to die for.

( She'd stopped a step after him, ears perking at his seemingly involuntary request. People don't generally ask her to demorph. She's not sure if it's politeness or practicality or some other emotion in the broad spectrum, but the request stands out even if she discounts who's asking.

Collette sits, mindful only that the ground she's on isn't really more puddle than rain-slick. She doesn't answer right away to avoid the moment where too much of her mouth was started back to normal to Thought Speak, but not enough was around to do more than strain through sounds which one day would figure out their identity as words.

There's better light tonight than there was out West. She doesn't warn on how gross this is, feeling the almost pressure as the coyote body changed, reorganizing back to human. The unpredictable nature has her hair growing out first while her fur pulls back into her body, muzzle shortening and resolving into a nose and mouth as her lower legs extend, joints altering direction with muffled, possibly only in her head pops. Two demorphs short after each other -- hah, she'll be asking for it later. Evenif this has only gotten easier over the last six months and then some.

Demorph completing, she catchs herself with one arm as she overbalances to the side. It's not the most graceful position she's in, in a dark, close fitting tank-top this time, leggings that end around midcalf growing more damp in increments than they'd been before. Her tone of voice is light when she does get around to responding. )

All you had to do was ask!

( Like she has, on another question. )

If you want to see my face so bad, who am I to refuse?

( Teasing and laughing lightly at the end, more curious in looking back up at him than her own particular circumstance. She shifts to find a better central balance, pulling her hands up off the ground. )

It matters. Fighting here isn't the same as fighting back home. Just like dying isn't.

[ Fuck. Fuck.

It shouldn't have surprised him. Of fucking course she'd morph in the middle of the fucking street in the goddamn rain. When he realizes she's morphing he starts swearing and moves, kneeling down to where she's shifting and using his wider frame to block anyone who might catch sight of the two of them. ]

Jesus, Collette! How about you don't agree to shit that's gonna put you in a vulnerable position.

[ He pulls off his coat and wraps it around her shoulders, double checking to make sure no jackass saw and took an interest in the scantily clad shape shifter. When he sees no one, he looks back at her, sighing and rubbing his eyes with a hand. ]

You refuse because it was a fucking stupid and selfish request.

( She can't help the involuntary twitch of her lips when he comes down to her level, nor the flicker of surprise when he pulls off his coat and settles it back around her shoulders. It's something she sees as being unnecessary, if nice. It shows he's paying more attention to herself than she really was, and she laughs lightly, a small expression of amusement mingled in with embarrassment as she listens to what he says. One hand comes up to tug his coat on better over her shoulders. )

But you don't ask for a lot.

( Pretty much ever, as far as she's concerned. )

So I figured this meant something to you.

( Why, she chooses not to hazard too many guesses right now. The surreality of being here after being gone again. Other things he's said on network that she's let go uncommented upon. Lingering thoughts on an inebriated mind? )

If I didn't do things just because of being put in a vulnerable position every once in a while, I wouldn't be living.

[ He doesn't know how to respond to that. Because she's right and it does mean something to him. A lot of somethings really and a lot of somethings that he doesn't want. He sighs again and lifts his head, letting himself study her face as much as he wants. It fits with the memories, right down to the little smile. ]

Yeah, well.

Probably shoulda remembered you were this reckless.

[ Or brave. Kinda the same thing.

He reaches out, slow enough that she could stop him if she wanted (he half expects her to), and tucks a few stray locks of hair behind her ears. He drops his hand quickly and edges back to give her space, fully aware that's the gentlest touch he's given anyone in a while. ]

You should head back, it's late.

It's one of my better traits.

( Partly joking, but as equally serious. Not headstrong recklessness, but enough of a flare for it that she can throw herself into the scary things and just go with them.

She's curious, holding still as he brushes her hair off her face. Collette isn't sure what she was expecting, but this wasn't quite it, either. )

So should you, buster.

( Her lips quirk up a little more to the left, corresponding with her lifting a finger in front of her as a sort of "pause" motion. If he's not too far out of range, and if he doesn't shift out of the way, she'll see if she can turn that in to a nose-bop.

Really, since no one puts up with that, she's expecting the dodge. )

[ He holds still for the nose-bop. He figures it's a fair trade, but he's still going to look really disgruntled about it. ]

Hey, I was in the process of it. [ Total lie, but still. ] You're the one who decided to have the sit down in the mud, sweetheart.

[ Speaking of which. He rocks back on his heels and smirks.]

You got five seconds to decide to shift your butt before I move it for you.

( Collette's surprised he lets her get away with it. Amused as well, but the surprise shows in a widening of her eyes and a corresponding pleasure in her smile.

And then she rolls her eyes as she lets her hand fall back down toward her lap. )

It takes me more than five seconds to morph!

( Though she figures he didn't mean it literally. Still, she sticks her tongue out, appropriately mature in her response to what's really more a reasonable and practical concern. )

[ She gets a totally disgruntled frown for her pleased surprise. And he raises an eyebrow at her mature response. ]

Guess you better decide quickly, then.

[ He's expecting her to morph, counting on it a little. Despite his talk, there really isn't any way he's going to leave her like this. ]

( She's already opted to morph, figuring whatever he needed out of seeing her face-to-face was either secure enough now, or past the point of practicality, as to not require her to push and see how long before he pushed back. She doesn't like having a handicap on her mobility that doesn't need to be there.

Decision made, she intends to pull his jacket back off and hand it over, but the thought comes an instant too late. Her thumbs have already stiffened and shortened as her hands took on the appearance of paws, falling forward on them to support the cracking and shifting as her pelvis changed along with her hips. Her hair pulls back in like a photolapse in reverse, long to bald and then breaking out in hives that resolved into tan and gray and brown and white and black fur all over her exposed body.

The big difference between this and those horror scenes in were-wolf movies is the lack of pain, the muteness on her end; the size disparity as well as she shrinks down to a 38 pound creature from a girl weighing in close to 125. Things mold and form without apparent reason, like God couldn't decide what to finish first and haphazardly modeled one creature from the mold of another, twisting and pulling and smoothing things down with a grotesque glee.

Thankfully, it's over soon enough. If he hasn't reclaimed his jacket yet, she'll hold still so he can now. )

< Slap a service dog vest on me and call me Fido. Who's walking who here, again? >

[ He grabs his jacket when she holds it out. The urge to reach out and touch her as she changes is itself. It looks like it fucking hurts, but he's mostly sure she wouldn't slip in and out of forms so easily if it did. Probably...

He's not sure if he's supposed to look away or not, so he just kinda settles for looking down and watching her hands change into paws, frowning behind the mask until he catches her voice in his mind. ]

No one's walking anyone, you're the one who started following me like a stray dog.

[ The pissy tone is probably offset by the hand he settles briefly on her neck. The touch is almost a question, you all right? ]

( She seems as amused as she was before, if the flavor of her mental communications were any indication. )

< Strays follow people for two reasons: food or attention! >

( She turns her head to nuzzle at his hand, one ear turning his way to better listen. )

< Either way, you're nice enough not to let me starve. >

( Canine grin back in place, she gives a slow wag of her tail. All very odd for a real coyote, but a means of communication for someone who simply wore the body of one. )

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