Яσвιи: Ƭнɛ βσʏ Ɯσи∂ɛя (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pixieboots) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-10-11 09:41 pm
pixieboots) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-10-11 09:41 pm
pixieboots) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-10-11 09:41 pm
no subject
he whips his head around quickly, alarmed. it takes a while for him to realize who it is...]
no subject
now he's just self-conscious.
and it's making him edgier than he'd thought it would already, being looked at like this. Even if it is only Jericho, who's seen it before. He's still someone who doesn't know already, who'll probably see everything differently now. He'd gone about it all wrong, hadn't he? Pretending it wouldn't matter when it does. ]
Uh. Hey. It's, um. Me.
[ He shuffles his feet and studies the ground, but luckily there's actually a lot there to look at. ]
...I'm kinda here by accident. [ It's as good an excuse as any. ]
no subject
Jericho's head turns and eyes avert the second he realizes it, looking embarrassed. he didn't mean to look! well...you know...
he nods, fidgeting where he sits, looking like a guilty child who just saw or did something they oughtn't. and, from his perspective, he just did!]
no subject
[ Jericho hadn't asked him, not even once. And why would he? He knows how these things work. ]
...You can keep playing. I mean it's- it's nice. If you want me to go I can just- [ He jerks a thumb in the vague direction of the entrance. ]
no subject
Jericho himself still stares down at his strumming hand, face overheated already. he shakes his head while his fingers find their place among the frets, and it's a nervous spattering of notes that follows, trying to take the place of some stammering apology he can't make on his own.
it's almost unbearable, hearing how bad it is, so he stops. stops and breathes, eyes closed. if that hasn't utterly scared him off, then...
he doesn't look to be sure. he just plays. gentler, quieter. little apologies, meek remarks.]
no subject
He rubs at the back of his neck for a minute, watching Jericho not watching him and feeling a weird, knotted up mix of shame and gratitude twist at his insides. He drops his hand a little hopelessly, when all at once he remembers. The sunglasses are tucked in his pocket. They're always tucked in his pocket. ] Uh, hey! Look what I found?
[ He slips them on before Jericho can respond, and the effect really is instantaneous. His cocky grin is back, triumphant and happy. ]
Better now?
no subject
he blinks, realizing he's begun to nod without thinking, and simply nods more earnestly while his face gets red again. better? really? sure, if it's hiding identities and all...]
no subject
But it feels wrong, doesn't it? Saying it to people he barely he knows now when he has friends here - friends like Jericho who should have both halves of the puzzle. Even if-
No matter what Batman thinks about it.
It's a thought that's threatening to shrink away and die already, but he holds on to it while he shifts his feet awkwardly. Strangers can't fit the pieces together but he knows Jericho can, whether he lays it out for him now or not. And he will, once he's seen him using it on the network. Using it around the base. Lying to a whole new set of people who only ever knew the kid in the mask wearing the mask.
He has to tell him. He has to explain it, while he still has time.
He takes a small step forward, still cautious and apologetic, then finally gives in to the invitation of the flowers and takes a seat a careful distance away. He rests his head in his hands and heaves a small, heavy sigh. ]
I've gotta say, this isn't how I pictured this going.
no subject
he's surprised that Dick hasn't just up and left; Jericho looks over toward him, staring. he blinks. pictured...what?
even the note he plucks has a questioning twang to it.]
no subject
I'm not giving up my- my identity or anything. I know it looks bad, but- [ He could ramble on about that forever, he knows he could. Instead he drops his hands back down, useless and slumped. ]
...Anyway. I'm just gonna retire for a while. From the vigilante trade.
no subject
Jericho is still for a beat, but there's no way he can sit still for long. he lifts the guitar off his lap, sliding off the rock that the VR gave him as a perch so he can sit at his friend's level. his face is shaded heavily with confusion and concern.
what do you mean?
he even signs it a bit:] What?
no subject
I made a really big mistake.
And the thing is- [ His voice cracks mid-word, enough that he has to look away until he can wrangle it back. ] -the thing is I keep going over and over it in my head and I still don’t know if there's anything I would've done differently.
no subject
and Robin doubting himself like this? guilt-ridden and downtrodden? it doesn't make sense for what Robin stands for...it's too normal. too like himself. it's weird to put his friend on the same level as him.
his mouth forms in small, uncertain lines as he chews on the inside of his cheek, feeling uncertain of how to feel about this. big mistakes, going back and doing things again...this sounds way too familiar; it's just being said in Robin's voice, not his own. and that was well over a year ago, wasn't it?
Jericho tilts his head and dips it down a little, peering at Robin from a less even angle. his eyebrows pinch, wondering. what's this mistake...?]
no subject
[ Though it's already occurring to him that maybe Jericho doesn't know, maybe he hadn't seen that awful post he'd made before the bombs fell. But now that he's started he can't seem to stop himself; the words are on the tip of his tongue and he can't . ]
But I trusted someone I shouldn't have. That's why I'm here and not- [ -not what?
Finally he's on his feet again without picking up the thought again, and suddenly the words are coming in a rush, as if he's already on trial for saying them. ]
I know you don’t know Batman at all, but if you did you’d understand. He never would have let this happen. We would have kept trying until we found a way, even if it meant we had to die with the Exiles. That’s what being a hero is supposed to mean.
no subject
his mouth opens to protest, but...he can't say what he wants.
somewhere in that deluge of words, Jericho finds some bit of quiet, an opening, reaching out and grabbing at his wrist, as much a stop as he can convey without anything to write on.]
no subject
Oh... [ Then his shakes his head and relaxes the tautness in his posture, just a bit. ] I keep forgetting you can't just- [ -that silence doesn't necessarily mean he has nothing to say.
And absurdly that makes him miss the Robin suit all over again, because at least with the belt on he would've had a clean notepad to offer him. ]
Yeah, I- you're right. I guess I'm not being fair. [ He signs the last few words, so Jericho will know for sure what he means. That he's been practicing, that he'll try his hardest to follow if he wants to try the signs. ]
...I'm listening, I promise.
no subject
he tugs him down a little, his other hand pointing. sit.
and once he's done that, he himself slides off his perch to sit parallel, still hanging onto that wrist, and lets his other hand do the work. he opens Dick's hand, palm up, and starts tracing letters, punctuating the end of each word with a very deliberate stop. he's careful, methodically moving from watching the hands to Dick's expression, slowing down where he's uncertain of understanding.]
n o t
f a i r
t o
y o u r s e l f
no subject
Yeah, I know. But...
[ His free hand goes to his hair, stressed and restless. ] You have to know what I'm saying. All those people are dead now. I mean, you... [ It's the last thing he wants to bring up. But the thought is there, hovering close to the tip of his tongue.
He'd never asked him why, had he? ] -you had to change your costume, right? Cause...
Because you knew something changed.
no subject
but Dick's not wrong. things changed. but...Jericho frowns, thinking, wasn't it mostly because his old outfit was totally trashed? all the additions were just...
well.
well, things he never had to worry about back home. so there is that.
the old stuff couldn't hold up. old Joseph, too, maybe? he hasn't really been the same person he was before he caused that assassination, he's got to admit. and that was well over a year ago...
he nods, conceding, his mouth still puckered dubiously. Yes, but...Isn't that different?]