[closed] a thousand years forever and a day

[pixieboots]

Date & Time: today
Location: THE OUTLANDS
Characters: khisanth and dick
Summary: a robin meets a dragon
Warnings: khisanth



[ It’s the body language that gets his attention. She’s moving – whoever she is – with the kind of purpose that says she knows something. Which maybe wouldn’t have been all that special back in the hold. Or even out in the main part of the city. Where everybody goes when they have money to burn or people to see.

This lady though, she’s headed somewhere else. Somewhere out there, past that invisible threshold of nothing that’s supposedly so unworthy of a real workup. All the real exploring he hasn’t been doing while he’s been tied up in missions and patrols and bodyswaps. He can’t not fall in behind her, keeping inside the shadow of the debris as she moves ahead. He’s grinning when he slides up underneath a fallen chunk of metal, squeezing the batbinoculars to tighten the range just enough that he can almost reach out and touch her trajectory. ]

Gotcha.

Comments

[pixieboots]

It's a uniform. [ Which... sure makes it sound uniform, doesn't it? Exactly the opposite of what it's supposed to be.

He shifts against the grain of the wind, stance rigid and uncomfortable. The costume feels bare suddenly; cape too thin and loose where it hangs by his legs. He tilts his chin up and tries staring her down through the mask. ]

What makes you think he isn't the one dressed like me?

[onblackwings]

[ She considers that, finds no clear answer, and realizes that she doesn't actually care that much one way or the other. They can dress alike if they want to, what does it matter to her?

So she shrugs, turns away, and starts forward again. ]

I saw him first. It's a straightforward enough conclusion to draw, isn't it?

[pixieboots]

I guess... [ He stays where he is, hand cocked on hip while he watches her. He's pretty sure - actually he's completely sure - that he's being brushed off like a flea. ]

But he isn't first. It's my uniform. [ He takes a step forward, then one more. ]

If you want to know the truth he didn't even ask me.

[onblackwings]

[ She doesn't stop or look back, but isn't downright escaping him. Sure, it's a brisk pace, but she could just be teleporting away. And besides that, she might have some very idle curiosity to indulge. ]

So why allow it, if you don't like it?

[pixieboots]

Well, I-

...I don't know. I mean I wouldn't if- [ if he knew - really knew - that Batman remembered. That he's not doomed already, buried and forgotten somewhere in the future or just shipped back to the boy's home, away from Bruce and away from Gotham.

Those kids had to get the suit somehow. ]

It's not totally my decision. [ He picks up the pace a little, yellow cape flapping while he breaks into a short run until he catches up. Not quite falling into step beside her, but close enough. ]

When I get home I'm gonna settle it, though.

[onblackwings]

Why wait? If something's not to your standards, it should be confronted. It's the only way to settle things.

[ Stated so firmly and confidently, as if she were speaking with more than just a small handful of years' worth experience. ]

Mm. Not that such a gaudy outfit is worth too much concern.

[pixieboots]

It's the name. The outfit's a bonus. [ He pitches his tone dry, but it's still rings a little hollow after he's said it.

He waits until he thinks she'll miss it and then steals another glance at her. There's something about the way she carries herself. Smooth and confident and tough. He tries to loosen his stance a little more, shoulders pushed further back. ]

I'm not incinerating the guy if that's what you think. That wouldn't really solve anything.

[onblackwings]

It solves more than you seem to think.

[ That with a little smirk, because look, she just loves incinerating people, alright? But even so... ]

But in this case, I suppose you're right. [ Definitely not said because the Other Robin helped her out once and she sort of likes him now. Definitely not. ] He's larger than you, I doubt if it would go well.

[pixieboots]

How big is he?

[ It's out before he can really think through what it is he's asking. But what are the odds that the lady he'd started following almost a whim is the one person on the island he's met so far that's actually been willing to talk about that Al kid? ]

I haven't really gotten to meet him yet...

[onblackwings]

[ She glances over at him, considering. In a few seconds she holds out a hand, a good deal above his head. ]

He's this tall, I think. [ Her other hand lifts as well, this time out in front of her as she walks. At about shoulder height, she indicates the decently wide shoulders of an almost-man. ] And this wide. So, like I said, I doubt it would go well.

[pixieboots]

[ He follows the motions with his eyes, tracing the person-shaped outline when she draws it until it starts to take shape in his head. It's a good size. An almost grown up, solid size.

Maybe that's what Batman's looking for. What he's wanted all along, in a partner. ]

I bet I could take him. [ He's been holding his fists down at his sides, and he has to concentrate for a few seconds on getting his fingers to unclench. It's not her fault. Nothing she could help. ]

I've taken out guys bigger than that.

pulls out this icon for delicious irony

[onblackwings]

[ She glances over again. Whereas it was considering the first time, this time it judges and find him amusingly lacking. ]

Could you? I doubt it. [ This with a fond little smile: ] He was a decent warrior, for his age.

o-oh noooo my heart ;;

[pixieboots]

Who says I can't be? [ His fingers clench again reflexively. ]

He's the one who ripped off the costume. If he could get by on his own rep I bet he wouldn't have had to cash in on somebody else's.

[onblackwings]

Rep, you mean reputation?

[ She's just going to go ahead and assume he does, and laugh. ]

And are your skills really so impressive? I doubt if you could prove it.

[pixieboots]

Yeah? Watch me. [ It's probably one of those things he'll end up regretting later. But right now her words are like salt, thrown into a wound that's still open. ]

So maybe I'm no Batman but I can hold my own in a fight. And I don't need to wear anybody's symbol on my chest other than mine.

[onblackwings]

[ If he's going to regret it, so will she. But really, it's just too much to expect her to pass up the chance to toy with a kid. She stops walking, aiming a smirk at him. ]

So, as I said: prove it.

[pixieboots]

[ He stops short when she does, eyes widening when it starts to click what- what she's really asking.

He looks down at his clenched fists, then back up at her.

And finally: ] No.

[ He shakes his head, and for good measure takes another, more decisive step back. There's a heavy, dejected slump to his shoulders. ]

I don't have a reason to fight you.

[onblackwings]

I could always give you one.

[ It comes with a smile, and sounds far too pleasant to be a threat. And really, she doesn't mean it as one. She's been introduced to the idea of a spar, and while she's still not terribly good at being hurt by someone and not trying to kill them afterward, she's making progress. ]

It's that, or I think of you as weak from here on out.

[pixieboots]

One chance is all I get?

[ The smile is a little strange, but somehow it's... actually not setting his teeth on edge. Maybe she really does think she's helping. Or something.

But he's stalling for time now, so he takes a seat on a nearby chunk of twisted up metal, tucking his legs up as carefully as he can to avoid splinters. ]

That doesn't seem fair.

[onblackwings]

Things rarely are.

[ She whispers a word under her breath, and darkness falls. It's thick and total, impervious to sunlight, firelight, or man-made light, but of course she watches him through it with a dragon's eyes. She won't attack, not yet, but she's keenly interested in how he'll react. Humans never seem comfortable with the dark, and there's so much implied threat in it. ]

[pixieboots]

[ His breath comes out in a rush, then he hits the ground again while his hand goes to his belt, reaching blindly for a flare. Right when he gets his fingers around it it occurs to him that turning it on is the last thing he wants to do. The dumbest thing he could have though of, when the person he's fighting can control light. Maybe. Possibly. ]

Don't I get a head start? [ His voice sounds shrill and frightened. He swallows again and tries to remember how to project. Calm, confident. ]

You can't just start something without giving me the parameters!

[onblackwings]

[ He sounds scared. It's different, hearing it in a child's voice. There's a certain pleasure when you can claw fear out of a full grown man, particularly one deserving of it, but she doesn't feel that here. It's just an interesting exercise, and little more. ]

Why should I? [ She starts forward in a slow, lazy circle around him, and her shoes crunch slowly and evenly over the rubble and ruined ground. It sounds meticulous, calculated. ] No real opponent would ever give you parameters, much less a head start.

[pixieboots]

[ They're familiar, those words. So familiar they might as well be his. And that sets his teeth on edge. ] I don't want to hurt you...

[ He's listening to that gravel crunch, ear pressed to the ground. Slipping a batarang instead of the flare out and into his palm. ]

But I'm giving you to the count of three to turn the lights back on. Then things are going downhill from here on out.

[onblackwings]

Al probably would have begun to fight by now.

[ The steps stop, and she falls silent. The only sound through the darkness is the quiet rustle of clothing. ]

[pixieboots]

[ She's goading him. She's goading him and he knows she's goading him but right now that hard, bitter flash of anger is too sharp to get around and he doesn't care. ] That does it.

[ The batarang flies, aimed not directly at the sound, but close enough that he thinks it might brush past her. Anything to break her concentration on... whatever this is. ]

I don't have to prove anything.