tushanshu | ℛedwing oo1

Entry tags:

ℛedwing oo1 - Text;

[Tim chooses to keep his first entry to text, avoiding having his voice and face on the network immediately. This decision is aided by his mistrust of the city he's found himself in and by the fact that his uniform doesn't quite cover him as much as he's used to. He's still unsure whether the city is part of the Unternet or not, because how else does he explain the uniform. But then where were Tam and Lonnie - he'd been with them moments before waking.]

I know I'm not the only one who's been brought here, so I'm curious - how many non-natives got fished out of the ocean? Also, have any of you heard of the Ünternet? [He keeps the second question vague because it's easier than directly asking if any of the Bat family are here.] More importantly: has anyone been here long enough to get a decent lay of the land and an idea where to get a good, strong cup of coffee? [Because he has a headache like you wouldn't know.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Good, Tim. Bruce can sense the suspicion there, that detective's intuition honed to a razor's edge even before he was lost to time. Tim's always been smart. His intellectual successor, and maybe eventually even his superior.

He suppresses a slight note of pride at that. 'A father's greatest triumph is to have his son surpass his own excellence'. He gives it another two comments before Tim cracks his identity.]

These people seem keen on catering to us. You could always ask.

[Whoever it is is giving nothing away and it only serves to make Tim even more suspicious - or maybe more certain that's he's speaking to someone who likes masks and keeping to themselves.]

A little too keen, if you ask me. I guess it's asking or having a look myself, which wouldn't hurt really.

Oh? What makes you say that?

[An innocent question. Y so suspicious of the kedan, Tim?

Even though in truth he's right there with you.]

Well. Good luck. Let us know if you find any places worth mentioning.

[Okay, that he doesn't buy. No way someone wanting to remain so anonymous to give none of themselves away even in their text, wouldn't be thinking the exact same as him. There's only one person he knows as good as him in that regard. It's a leap, but it's not like it's not one he's taken before.]

I guess I'm just naturally suspicious? I will.

[He isn't quite smiling - it's just not an expression he wears comfortably, but it's close.]

Keep in touch.

[That, as much as anything ever is, is permission to call him on his identity. But it's also his way of giving Tim space if he wants it. The last year has changed both of them, and although he knows Tim as well as he ever did, he also respects his autonomy enough to step back.]

[Well, at least he hasn't lost his touch. He may have just mentally pat himself on the bat, no lie.]

I can do better. Where are you? I need to run a few things by you, see what matches up.

[Hm.]

Fire Sector, in a café in the 11^th block. No mask.

[That's its own warning. Bruce doesn't have his gear. And although he's done reasonably well for himself in spite of that little setback, Tim showing up costumed might go poorly for both of them. He'll leave it up to Tim.]

I'll change into the provided civvies and be there as soon as possible. [By which he means he'll pack the civvies and travel in costume.]

[Bruce is at the café in question, relaxing (well, 'relaxing') at one of the tables, a cup of coffee close at hand. He's in disguise - short goatee, greying hair, looking a little older than his norm. He has a vaguely professorial air about him, though he isn't wearing any body padding to disguise his build. His posture, however, is significantly different. Calm, confident, but in a slouchy sort of way that indicates a lot of time at a desk, with weekends spent hiking or somesuch.

He's casually reading one of the local newspapers, but Tim's bound to notice that he's paying attention to more than just the words on the page.

Also: he has his back to a wall. Like a boss.]

[It takes Tim a short while to gather up a change of clothing and travel across the city from the Metal to Fire district. Of course, he travels by rooftop, glad that he had at least been dragged out of the ocean in his uniform and a fully stocked utility belt. He was still unsure how it was at all possible to still be in the uniform he'd found himself in whilst in the Ünternet, but that was something he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to find an explanation to all that easily. Well, he'd see.

From the rooftops, he manages to survey a small chunk of the city on the way and locates the café Bruce is in easy. Dropping down into an empty side-street to bag his mask and belt and pull the clothes he'd found in the provided apartment over his uniform and even push his hair back out of his face and slip on a pair of glasses. The clothes were the same as the locals wore and Tim actually found himself comforted by the thought of being able to slip through crowds rather than standing out.

When he steps into the café it takes mere moments for him to identify Bruce, though he's confident that most others wouldn't be able to. Not that he doubted that - Bruce was a master at disguise. Tim just happened to be a master of seeing through them. That and Bruce was the only patron with his back to a wall with a comfortable view of the whole room - second nature for a Bat.

It's still a little strange to see his adoptive father alive and well, there and Tim can't help the small smile that pulls at the corners of his lips as he moves the other seat at Bruce's table so he can sit out of the way of his view of the door before sitting.]

Sorry it took so long.

It's no trouble, son.

[He avoids using a name, giving Tim an opportunity to set up his own secret identity here if he wants to.]

How're your studies going?

[Translation: I'm posing as a college professor at the moment. Given Tim's age and his propensity for learning, it's not a huge leap of logic to paint them in that light as acquaintances.]

Edited (oops tagging early morning) 2012-08-03 15:40 (UTC)

[Tim frowns and it's totally put on, but it's all part of the persona.] Todd, please Prof. [And it's one that goes with Bruce's easily - Todd Richards was a student from Chicago when he first used to persona years ago. Now he could be student from wherever.]

They were great until I was dragged out of the ocean. Spent all of last night on the internet doing research into Russian businesses. [He gives a small smile as he leans forward, steepling his hands and resting his chin on them.]

Edited 2012-08-03 18:18 (UTC)

Mr. Richards.

[He says that smoothly, with the barest hint of professorial amusement. He's being contrary out of fondness, 'Todd', really.]

Learn anything interesting?

[About this place? He makes a throwaway gesture as he speaks, but presses his middle and index finger alongside his thumb at the same time. A brief, microsecond of kinesics meant to imply that he's written up his own notes.

He pushes a second cup of coffee - ordered for Tim when he knew he'd be arriving in person - across the table. It fits all the proper criteria for a Bat. That is to say: you can come dangerously close to standing a spoon up in it.]

Edited (canonical inconsistencies in two decades of canon? surely you jest. ) 2012-08-04 13:36 (UTC)

Why you gotta do that, Prof? [He rolls his eyes and huffs, but the edges of his lips pull straight back up. This was an old persona from when he was still new to being Robin, but Bruce didn't miss a beat, not ever.]

Not much. These kedan don't give anything away, do they? Only made it into the city an hour or so ago. [He almost groans audibly as the coffee is pushed towards him; he's used to long nights and little sleep, but the last couple had hit him hard. Especially when he coupled it with the trip into the Ünternet.

Lifting the mug, he takes a long drink before setting it back down and shrugging. If this didn't wake him up, he'd be a lost cause.]

The basics, mostly. And a half-decent lay of the land.

[Tim frowns again and when he speaks his voice is lowered and directed into his cup as he lifts it again.] They fished me straight out of the Ünternet.

If I'm not irritating my students, I don't think I'm doing an adequate job as a professor.

[He smiles a little.]

It's been about sixteen hours for me.

[No, he hasn't slept. And doesn't intend to for quite some time. He does, however, raise an eyebrow at Tim's last comment. Tim, not Todd. Wheels within wheels.]

Did they.

[The Ünternet, created by the Calculator, used by Oracle during Darkseid's siege on the Earth. Bruce is only peripherally aware of the concept himself, though he can't imagine himself leaving a resource like that untapped in the future.

But to pull someone out of a digital realm and into one of 'death or dreaming'--

It bears looking into, if nothing else.]

Yeah yeah.

[Sixteen hours. That means they didn't all arrive at the same time, they were coming in at separate times, maybe in groups - he wouldn't know unless he found out how long everyone had been here, and not everyone would be willing to tell a random stranger that. Not without questions.

Tim watches Bruce's face, but the brow raise was expected - a reaction to him being pulled from a virtual world. It doesn't tell him if Bruce knows about the trip to the Ünternet, if he's from before that or not. Damian was from later, said he'd managed to put it out of commission.]

Straight out, in the uniform I was in there. [He pauses for a moment, takes a long drink from his cup and then sets it back down.]

They put me up in an apartment in Metal district. And my brother's here, the youngest one, but maybe you saw him around already?

I'm in Earth. [A lie. He tells it in the downward flick of his mouth. He's in Metal as well, and Tim should be able to pick up on that.] We'll have to collaborate later. I wouldn't want you to neglect your study by the simple accident of transdimensional brouhaha.

['Devin Craig' is old British and what fresh bullshit is this, exactly? But that's the necessary part. The act.

When Tim mentions Damian, he stills. It's almost a preternatural thing, his quiescence. A matter of marshalled breathing and a cessation of unnecessary movement. He wishes that he and Tim were somewhere private, without the walls that make up so much of their respective lives. He doesn't often yearn for frank discussion, but this is one of those times where he'd prefer it to the clandestine smoke and mirrors of the bat.

Perhaps it's sentimental. Or perhaps it's something more.

When he was lost to time, when he'd lost his memories, when he was fighting the Archivist in the Justice League headquarters-- through all of that, Tim was the one who never gave up on him. Tim - his partner - held on despite it all.

Bruce has always known he's a survivor. It's how he's defined himself, time and again. But the first truth of Batman is--

That he was never alone. His friends and partners, the adopted family he's built up around the legacy of the Bat, they've always been there for him, but none shone brighter in their devotion than Tim. Tim is the one who, though his life has been marked by tragedy as much as any of them, has built himself up again into something better. A man even Bruce admires.

It isn't to say that Tim's accomplishments diminish Dick's, or Barbara's, or Cassandra's or Stephanie's. But Tim is the most like Bruce out of any of them, and perhaps that's why he's so proud. To see someone succeed where he simply fell into darkness.

Sentimental. Indeed. And now Tim lights on the one subject Bruce isn't sure he can discuss with him. Damian Wayne. His son, whom he barely knows. He's spent fewer hours in his company than he has unbroken bones, and quite frankly Bruce has no idea what to do with him. He has no desire to alienate the boy, cause him to grow up without a father, but-- at the same time, Bruce has always chosen his children before. Having one for whom that is not the case is... something he hasn't yet had time to properly acclimate to.]

Oh? And how's he handling all this?

[And pick up on it he does. He gives Bruce a small smile to show that he picked up on the lie and then sighs and shrugs.] Really, Prof? I wake up in a weird world and basically got told I'm dead or dreaming and I have to keep studying? Ugh.

[Tim notices the stiffness of Bruce's posture at the mention of Damian, but he can't quite follow his chain of thought in the moment that passes. They both have issues with Damian, but Tim has kept all of his private and suspects that Bruce would share his own with only a close few.

It was something Tim didn't want to pry into, he didn't need to shoulder the knowledge of his mentor's problems as well.]

I'm not sure. We only spoke briefly. Don't think he even knew it was me. [And he gives Bruce a look that says he's going to keep it that way for now.]

Education waits for no man, Mr. Richards.

[If he had a pair of glasses he'd totally be looking over the top of them at you right this moment. He makes a note to invest in a pair later. He can claim he lost his in the ocean.

Hey, it works for Kent.

Bruce listens as Tim continues talking, filing away the nuances of his phrasing and intonation. He can't blame Tim for having difficulty with Damian, given their introductory falling out, but he'd hoped that might have been something they could overcome in his absence.

Still. It's a lot to overcome.]

I don't think there's much here to support his ornithological hobby. We'll probably have to find something to keep him occupied.

[That 'we' is really more of an 'I'. He's not asking for Tim's help with Damian. He can accept that they're at odds, and not push the issue as far as Tim is concerned. So long as Tim hiding his identity doesn't put any of them at risk, he'll allow it.]

[Tim gives a small chuckle and he pushes his glasses up, runs a hand through his hair. There's a slight frown on his face, but he passes it off as part of the act, even though he knows Bruce will know it's more because of the conversation topic.]

I'm sure there's something for him to-- [Destroy, kill, maim. Ruin. Well, he doesn't even know if Damian arrived in uniform or not.] --do. [He doesn't plan to help, not even if Bruce asked. Dick had done a good job with him, but Tim planned to keep the brat at arm's length . He didn't want to get close to him. Ever.]

[A frown creases his brow briefly, smoothed away after another drink of coffee. Had he miscalculated? By the observations he made as the Insider, he'd believed Damian to have made acceptable progress in the last year. Dick's gentler hand at work.

It's something that will bear further investigation. Later.]

I'll take care of it.

[Tim sighs and his jaw tightens.

A selfish part of him - the part that remembers everything Damian has taken away from him - doesn't want Bruce to deal with Damian. That part of him is scared of having something else taken from him, of having that wound widened again - a wound Damian clearly takes pleasure in rubbing salt in.

Maybe he'd grown a lot since then, he'd become a different person and he'd internalised all of that, he was over it, but he didn't want his place as Bruce's partner to be snatched away too.

Dick had done good work with the brat, though, and Tim has to trust that no more damage would be done.]

Sure. Thanks, Prof. [Downing the last of his coffee, he stood, glancing around and then to the door.] Hey, you wanna come see my place? Three floors with all the latest gadgets and gizmos. It's only twenty minutes away.

[Bruce follows suit, dumps a handful of juulan on the table, and gestures at the door. There's something that Tim wants to discuss, privately. He'll listen.]

After you.

[Tim leads the way out of the building and then, after confirming with Bruce their mod of transport, down the side-street he'd changed into earlier. Swapping his clothes for his utility belt and mask, he noticed the brow raise from his mentor, but kept his lips sealed as they took to the rooftops.

Upon arrival at his apartment, he lead Bruce inside and up the stairs to the open plan living area. The mask and belt came back off, draped neatly over the back of a high stool.]

It wasn't safe to continue talking there. And there's a lot we should discuss.

For a start, we need to match up events. I know Damian is from some time in the future from where I was pulled from.

[Bruce takes off his mask as well - a simple domino, all he has at the moment - and sets it down on the counter. The work-out felt good. Working with Tim was likewise.

And Bruce is just not going to mention the uniform, and all its similarities to Nightwing. The Ünternet ties into matters of self perception, and Bruce honestly isn't surprised that Tim's subconscious would wish to construe itself this way.

The way Tim is automatically taking charge, however, makes him smile just a a tiny bit. It's brief, fleeting, and then he's back to business.]

I'm from before either of you. Roughly two weeks before I went global with Batman Incorporated.

[He may not have lived it, but Bruce knows his own timelines, and where he'd expected to be in the world at that point. In fact, he can probably accurately guesstimate everything he's done from that point until even Damian's timeline. It's a genius thing.]

ℛedwing oo1 - Text;

text; anonymous

text;

text; anonymous

text;

text; anonymous

text; batcryption unhackable

text; batcryption unhackable

text; batcryption unhackable

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;