Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME: MAY EDITION
TEST DRIVE MEME
A Confluence, capitalized, is the converging of one or more supernatural forces. Typically, a Confluence only occurs in one place at any given time. Typically.
These are not typical times.
Most of the Starfallen will arrive in Excelsior, Washington, slipping from the sky one by one, needing to be helped as they come floating down. To many citizens in Excelsior – individuals who are far from fond of metahumans – their arrival is a sign of bad things to come. It’s always a sign of bad things to come. This time, however, the bad things don’t come in the typical sequence. Instead, they’re dealing with a problem when the Starfallen begin to unwittingly arrive. What’s that problem? Plants with a rather problematic taste for flesh.
While Excelsior is hoping for spring to actually stick on the horizon, they’re warding off plants left and right. At least none of the plants seem to be able to spit fire – uh, yet?
In the midwestern part of the country, a huge barrage of rain has begun to settle over the land. Rain like this isn’t normal. Stormfronts usually keep moving forward, but this isn’t. And while rain isn’t a bad thing, this rain … is a deluge. A flood upon floods. Some Starfallen individuals will be showing up in the middle of this, arriving in both Little Love and Central City. Hope they can keep their heads above water!
Making matters worse is that everything seems a bit – planned? No, that’s not the right word. Like it’s all happened before. Or happening again. People all over are definitely noticing a strange uptick in déjà vu. Most worrying is how it seems to be happening everywhere.
These are not typical times.
Most of the Starfallen will arrive in Excelsior, Washington, slipping from the sky one by one, needing to be helped as they come floating down. To many citizens in Excelsior – individuals who are far from fond of metahumans – their arrival is a sign of bad things to come. It’s always a sign of bad things to come. This time, however, the bad things don’t come in the typical sequence. Instead, they’re dealing with a problem when the Starfallen begin to unwittingly arrive. What’s that problem? Plants with a rather problematic taste for flesh.
While Excelsior is hoping for spring to actually stick on the horizon, they’re warding off plants left and right. At least none of the plants seem to be able to spit fire – uh, yet?
In the midwestern part of the country, a huge barrage of rain has begun to settle over the land. Rain like this isn’t normal. Stormfronts usually keep moving forward, but this isn’t. And while rain isn’t a bad thing, this rain … is a deluge. A flood upon floods. Some Starfallen individuals will be showing up in the middle of this, arriving in both Little Love and Central City. Hope they can keep their heads above water!
Making matters worse is that everything seems a bit – planned? No, that’s not the right word. Like it’s all happened before. Or happening again. People all over are definitely noticing a strange uptick in déjà vu. Most worrying is how it seems to be happening everywhere.
EXCELSIOR
Ah, Excelsior – the city that doesn’t ask “why” something should be explored, but how quickly it can be explored. If only someone there had developed a swift measure to deal with a sudden influx of killer plants! The good news is that these plants haven’t killed anyone – not yet, anyway – but there is all the time in the world for that to change.
As the Starfallen arrive, they’re unlikely to notice the plants, and instead will see technological marvels all around them. Although Excelsior isn’t fond of Starfallen, they like the idea of welcoming them and getting them the hell out as quickly as possible. This philosophy results in all of the Starfallen being guided down to the ground, with further instructions awaiting them once they’re on two feet. (Or four. No one’s judging!) But once they land, they’re likely to notice that things aren’t the way they’re meant to be.
After all, someone in Excelsior failed to ask “why it’s bad to create an incredibly unlikely strain of plants that is genetically inspired by snapdragons, the flowers from those plumber games, and piranhas,” and instead went ahead with “how quickly can I do it?” Their experiment proved to be far too successful, aided by cutting-edge bioengineering technology.
Even though all Starfallen are encouraged to depart for the Midwest after they receive their teleportation devices, it’s apparent that the people of Excelsior need help. Right now, their chilly reception can easily be written off as a symptom of what’s happening. Dealing with newcomers at a time like this? Preposterous! People are injured from wild, flesh-eating plants. Obviously!
So, kind Starfallen – whether you’ve just arrived or came by when you heard word of the Confluence of trouble – will you give these dour folk the hand they so desperately need?
As the Starfallen arrive, they’re unlikely to notice the plants, and instead will see technological marvels all around them. Although Excelsior isn’t fond of Starfallen, they like the idea of welcoming them and getting them the hell out as quickly as possible. This philosophy results in all of the Starfallen being guided down to the ground, with further instructions awaiting them once they’re on two feet. (Or four. No one’s judging!) But once they land, they’re likely to notice that things aren’t the way they’re meant to be.
After all, someone in Excelsior failed to ask “why it’s bad to create an incredibly unlikely strain of plants that is genetically inspired by snapdragons, the flowers from those plumber games, and piranhas,” and instead went ahead with “how quickly can I do it?” Their experiment proved to be far too successful, aided by cutting-edge bioengineering technology.
Even though all Starfallen are encouraged to depart for the Midwest after they receive their teleportation devices, it’s apparent that the people of Excelsior need help. Right now, their chilly reception can easily be written off as a symptom of what’s happening. Dealing with newcomers at a time like this? Preposterous! People are injured from wild, flesh-eating plants. Obviously!
So, kind Starfallen – whether you’ve just arrived or came by when you heard word of the Confluence of trouble – will you give these dour folk the hand they so desperately need?
THE MIDWEST
Elsewhere, both Little Love and Central City are experiencing a flood of problems. Most of the problems are the result of the flood. While Little Love is known to be the quieter of the cities in this Confluence-ridden world, it finds itself dealing with a torrential downpour that it’s never seen before. Meteorologists quickly note that this is unnatural. All the way from Kansas to Illinois to Michigan there is rain, rain for as far as the eye can see. Flood warnings have no end in sight, and the people in these cities have asked for help from outside. If this rain doesn’t stop, all summer crops will be at risk!
The source of these problems? A Confluence. More specifically: a five-year-old girl who was born in Little Love just got news that her father died in an accident. Combine that with the incoming Confluence and the girl unwittingly unleashed her sadness upon the land.
Anyone investigating would learn that the rain began in Little Love, right before it began to spread upward and outward from the little town. Soon, Kansas, and then the entire Midwest, would feel the impact of her grief. Even when she sleeps, it doesn’t go away – her pain is a constant, after all. Finding her is key. No one can truly prevent a child’s grief, but perhaps they can help her realize her impact on the world and get her newly-arrived power under control.
The source of these problems? A Confluence. More specifically: a five-year-old girl who was born in Little Love just got news that her father died in an accident. Combine that with the incoming Confluence and the girl unwittingly unleashed her sadness upon the land.
Anyone investigating would learn that the rain began in Little Love, right before it began to spread upward and outward from the little town. Soon, Kansas, and then the entire Midwest, would feel the impact of her grief. Even when she sleeps, it doesn’t go away – her pain is a constant, after all. Finding her is key. No one can truly prevent a child’s grief, but perhaps they can help her realize her impact on the world and get her newly-arrived power under control.
DIADEM HOTEL
Whether you’ve gone to investigate the rather moist trouble or you’re just looking for some shut-eye, you’ve got a place that’s waiting for you. Need to clean up some plant-induced wounds? It’s time to hit the LUXURY HOTEL to ease any concerns.
The DIADEM HOTEL is usually reserved for the obscenely wealthy. Its rooms are enormous, the beds quite literally enchanted to offer the perfect night's sleep, and the food would usually cost your life savings for just a small taste. But given the circumstances, the Guilds feel its the least they can do to aid your transition into this world. EVERYTHING is complimentary, and everyone gets an ALLIANCE CREDIT CARD to spend on entertainment, clothing, and whatever other necessities they might need. The cards have an obscenely high limit and there doesn't seem to be an expectation for you to pay it back... though if they catch you abusing it, their accountant will be coming for your head.
There's a shopping center immediately across the street. It has an impressive array of outlet shops that cater to your every need. Food, clothing... and swords? If you can think of it, it's for sale. Although anything clearly supernatural or metahuman seems to be at a minimum and offered under the table. You can grab clothing made to withstand any superpower and a surprisingly mediocre Taco Bell order while you're at it. There's a Super Cinema in the shopping complex across the street that's showing a film called BARKS OF THE DEAD, a story about a zombified dog who protects a small family during the zombie apocalypse. Despite its taste for other dogs’ brains, this dog is fiercely loyal and will do anything for its owners.
The DIADEM HOTEL is usually reserved for the obscenely wealthy. Its rooms are enormous, the beds quite literally enchanted to offer the perfect night's sleep, and the food would usually cost your life savings for just a small taste. But given the circumstances, the Guilds feel its the least they can do to aid your transition into this world. EVERYTHING is complimentary, and everyone gets an ALLIANCE CREDIT CARD to spend on entertainment, clothing, and whatever other necessities they might need. The cards have an obscenely high limit and there doesn't seem to be an expectation for you to pay it back... though if they catch you abusing it, their accountant will be coming for your head.
There's a shopping center immediately across the street. It has an impressive array of outlet shops that cater to your every need. Food, clothing... and swords? If you can think of it, it's for sale. Although anything clearly supernatural or metahuman seems to be at a minimum and offered under the table. You can grab clothing made to withstand any superpower and a surprisingly mediocre Taco Bell order while you're at it. There's a Super Cinema in the shopping complex across the street that's showing a film called BARKS OF THE DEAD, a story about a zombified dog who protects a small family during the zombie apocalypse. Despite its taste for other dogs’ brains, this dog is fiercely loyal and will do anything for its owners.
EVERYWHERE: DÉJÀ VU
Less obvious and more innocuous are the strange stints of déjà vu all over. At first, it might seem like it’s a familiar thing you’ve seen before, but then you’re certain that you’ve ordered those chicken tenders before. Wait, you haven’t even been to this city before, much less this restaurant.
The feeling of déjà vu isn’t just that. Whole days will begin to feel like they’re repeating – surely they’ve solved that rain problem? Or the plant problem? Didn’t you hear that it happened?
Anyone keen to take notes might want to – assuming you haven’t just gotten that you did and they’ve been lost to time.
The feeling of déjà vu isn’t just that. Whole days will begin to feel like they’re repeating – surely they’ve solved that rain problem? Or the plant problem? Didn’t you hear that it happened?
Anyone keen to take notes might want to – assuming you haven’t just gotten that you did and they’ve been lost to time.
CLIFF NOTES.
➢ New arrivals will be appearing in Excelsior, Little Love, or Central City – with the bulk of them arriving in Excelsior. Their arrival will be expected and handled by a number of odd pieces of technology that help them as they fall from the sky itself. None of the locals will be happy to see the arrivals, but they’ll be so frazzled that they won’t be able to give them their usual chilly welcome. Vicious plants are on the loose and it’s not a meta’s fault. This might be meaningless to newcomers, but anyone who’s old hat at this will know that Excelsior can cause its own problems just fine, thank you.
➢ Arrivals who land in Little Love or Central City will arrive to a lot of rain. This much rainfall can impact the climate, daily life, crops – you name it. Arrivals will also be very, very soggy. If they’d like, they can ignore the trouble in favor of getting answers or heading to the hotel. No one’s obligated to lend a hand.
➢ Current Players are welcome to treat this as a bonus event. These events are canonically happening within the game but can be largely ignored if you'd prefer to use the month for personal plots. You can tag into the TDM, reference these prompts in network posts, or use them in your own logs.
➢ As for the time stuff, feel free to treat it as a wobbly time event! Mess with memories, get a character caught in the same day, or even just make someone feel like they’ve suddenly acquired precognition as a power. The sky’s the limit!
WILDCARD.
Metaheroes takes inspiration from all walks of comics. Take a look at the CITIES to get an idea as to what day to day life is like in the other cities. Perhaps you've encountered a supervillain (or hero) who needs to be thwarted, or a metahuman with unusual powers creating bizarre effects.
excelsior.
jason isn't surprised when he spots the suit, nor surprised when it looks different from what he's used to--the multiverse has dragged in weirder shit, after all, and he's seen bruce go through several different iterations of the batsuit. he watches batman stumble against the brick building from up above, brown leather jacket over the black bodysuit lined in with red that he's been fucking around in since dropping from the sky - there's two red hoods, and it sure would be unfortunate if he fucked everything up for himself by wandering the streets in near-identical gear, wouldn't it?
doesn't matter. he waits, until bats presses his shoulder against the wall, until it looks like his guard may have lowered even a fraction, and--jumps off the roof. keeps his guns in their thigh holsters, safety still flicked on. this isn't a fight, this is a greeting.
even if he does still unsheathe a smatchet, which he's holding up against his own shoulder. vaguely threatening, but not nearly as much as he could be. )
Hey, B. ( the domino mask leaves his face mostly exposed, and he doesn't bother with the voice modulator. keeps the smarmy lilt to his tone and matching grin instead, it's good enough. if he knows, he knows. if he doesn't, maybe jason can have some fun before the rest of the crew comes in to ruin it. ) Fancy meeting you here. Been 'round long?
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the fists are kept up, cape billowing at his feet from the gentle breeze that passes through. he doesn't let his eyes off the other — doesn't take the chance to and ignores the way his injury throbs at his side while maintaining that hard stare to the other across from him. he needs to be careful here. this isn't gotham and he doesn't have access to his usual resources if something goes awry. he sort of hates it. )
Who's asking?
( no voice modulator here. just a gruff voice with an ever-so-slight tilt of his head. )
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he's going with bruce. if it's not bruce, it's fine. anyone who decides it's a good idea to walk around as batman in the dark clearly deserves being fucked with. jason taps the knife against his shoulder, before he's lowering it to gesture down to himself. tips his head in the opposite direction that bats had with a raised brow. the grin spreads wider.
he's been needing something to take out his frustrations on for forever. this is perfect. )
Who's it look like to you? 'cause it looks to me like we're just two assholes, standing in an alley, geared up to the nines. An' damn would I love to wipe the floor with your face, but it feels like it just wouldn't be fair at this point, would it? 'm just fine, and you're -- ( tipping his head the other way, so he can look bats up and down. ) what'd you break this time? A rib?
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You Starfallen?
( bruce not answering a question and instead asking one of his own? must be a day that ends in y. )
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You really are B under there, aren't you? ( "b". batman, bruce, bitch. usually means one of the three; an edgier tone for batman, a softer, teasing tone for bruce, and an angry, snide one for bitch. this "b" fits somewhere between the first and the second. another hint dropped, and jason takes a step forward. throws the knife up and catches it by the hilt, eyes still focused on bruce himself. )
'll lend you a hand, 'cause I'm feeling generous today. I'll give you two questions, an' I won't lie when I answer them. Can't ask for my name, can't directly ask who I am. Two questions. When you're done with your two, I'm gonna shove this knife straight down into your collar.
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but now he finds himself here. in some world that isn't his own. a bat out of its cave it typically hides in. these streets have shadows, but they're not his. add to that the fact that he's bleeding out there at his side, he's not really in much of a mood for games. hence: )
That before or after I break your kneecaps?
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( jason's trained with bats for years, can't take his down but this isn't his. he doesn't know jason's skillset, or at least--jason's assuming he doesn't. he's trained with several others, too--killers, the league of assassins, has spent the last year and change fucking around with angrier, bitchier damian and a few others.
and his grin's only growing. turning from playful to downright feral. another step forward, though he's careful to keep bats out of reach. the knife moves from pointing to the side to straight at bats himself. )
You can call me Red, if it'll make you feel better. That takes one of your questions. You've got one left. Wanna use it?
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he's right though. he doesn't want to bust his kneecaps. not unless red here gives him a reason to. right now he's nothing more than a gotham punk he sees nightly. but again, this isn't gotham and he somehow knows him— of him.
fists unclench, tip of a gloved finger slowly disarming the grapple as he pushes it back into place, eyes still hard as they stare down red. )
No.
( to the question? to his not having a clue who he is? he doesn't bother to clarify the soft reply. instead, he straightens up best he can and begins to move then. away from red. as if he's done with him. )
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jason quickly shifts from amused, to playing, to fucking pissed. he shouldn't be surprised; bruce always finds a way to make him angry. the smile fades, his jaw clenches tight. he doesn't like being ignored, having someone turn their back to him while he's in the middle of having a conversation with them.
bruce does this often enough back home.
so he opts to change tactics. goes from playing with bruce, to trying to get a rise out of him, to aiming to hurt. doesn't know how to do it effectively, this asshole gave him nothing. )
Should've known every one of you'd be a shit dad. ( and the knife goes flying, aiming for the breaks in armor where he needs space to move his arms. jason doesn't leave it there; the knife leaves his hand, and he's immediately lurching forward. bruce doesn't want to fight him? that's fine. jason can just make him. )
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it's only a second, nearly two, but it's enough to nick between the armor in a way that makes him grunt as he spins, catching the sight of red here coming for him.
instinct has his arms up — the gauntlets used as a shield of sorts to block swipes from both curled fists and the gleam of that knife wielded. for the moment, defensive. )
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so he raises both fists, covered in the same fabric of the body suit he's wearing, and hits. hard, going straight for bruce's head. gauntlets raise, block hits, but that doesn't get him to stop any. he'll just--hit them instead for now. jason's got better training than this, he knows that, but jason's always gone a little too reckless, too short-sighted, when he's seeing red. )
Your cowl's--shit, too. ( between hits, and jason's pushing forward, trying to knock bruce off balance. there's a wall somewhere back there, perfect place to block bruce in if he can coax him in. ) No lenses? How the fuck are you gonna keep people from taking out your eyes?
( and then he's flicking his wrist, pulling out the switch blade from his sleeve. he doesn't need the bigger knife anymore. jason goes in for a wide hit with right hand, drops the other down to try and get it under bruce's guard to shove it right up against the underside of his chin. )
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or so he thinks anyways.
the gauntlets deflect what's thrown so close at him in the way of punches and he catches the gleam of another blade coming for him at the last second. amidst the scuffle, the heel of his boot touches the brick wall there behind him and he swiftly grabs at jason's wrist with the knife, twisting it downwards — slamming his head against jason's as a means to push him back enough to kick at his leg with the heel of his other boot.
he's still not trying to hurt him. rather, keep him at a distance. which, unbeknownst to him, hits a certain way beneath the cape and cowl. )
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jason should be able to take him. he's definitely younger; the closeup was enough to tell that. he should be able to shove him down, show bruce how fun it is to get the shit kicked out of him. but he doesn't. he's keeping the distance instead, widening it. reaches for one of his glocks and flicks the safety off, raising it to point at bruce-- )
I hate how you pull this shit! You shut up, you let everyone else wear themselves down. You weren't there to keep me from losing my shit an' just--you didn't even help, asshole, you always just make everything worse!
( a breath. he's talking fast, he's putting the gun down. keeps his finger ready on the trigger. )
I can't even be mad at you properly you fucked me up so bad. Shit.
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but then jason goes and says what he does— spits it at him with a myriad of emotions he can't even begin to make sense of. yet through it all, he sees parts of himself in jason's anger and, again, he doesn't know what to make of it nor the accusations being thrown at him for things he hasn't even done. things he hasn't possibly lived through yet.
and that's when he catches sight of it. a ways behind jason— behind red, he sees the flesh-eating plant curl itself around the corner of the building with its spikes and blind hunger. he only has a second to react and does so without even thinking about it.
ripped off the chest plate of his armor, he swings the batarang past jason with such a quickness. it slices into the neck of the plant, severing it in half, but not before it shoots its spikes towards them and strikes bruce right in the chest. the force of it is reminiscent enough to how it feels being shot by a sniper rifle and it sends bruce slamming back into the wall he'd nearly been pushed into during their scuffle.
a thud, he hits the ground. grunting, teeth clenched. one of the spikes having pierced through his armor and merely adding to injury he's already pretending he doesn't have at his side. )
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and then there's the batarang. jason's immediate reaction to move himself out of the way, but he realizes it's not even aimed at him, so he's turning himself around, hips pivoting so he can see what bruce is aiming for, and still be facing towards bruce enough that he's ready for one to come straight for him. but it doesn't, because there's a spike embedding itself into bruce, and a batarang cutting one of those same plants straight in half.
bruce falls down to the ground. the threat of the plant is gone, over, and jason's just--
squinting down at bruce. puts the gun away so he can instead use his index finger to point down at him. )
See, that's also just like you. No, ( a deeper timbre, mimicking bruce's voice: ) "sorry I'm an emotionally constipated asshole, Jay". Just your "lemme take a bullet for you because I don't give a shit about my life" bullshit. I hate that too.
( he's rolling his eyes, but with the amount of wounds bruce is sporting, it's either leave him here to suffer, call dick and take off, or handle it. and if he called dick, he'd need to wait around for dick to show up before he could take off, so clearly the last option's fastest. jason clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, but he's reaching back into his jacket. pulls out a smaller first aid kit, among some bandages from another pocket. )
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so when he hears the rustling sort of sound to come after those words, lazily, he opens his eyes and stares up to jason to find him with a first aid kit and bandages pulled out from his jacket. unexpected, to say the least. but so was his swift reaction to severing that plant. maybe. it's not as if he's looking to die.
rather than say anything, he just stares up to him. silent. watches the way he fiddles with the first aid kit, and takes note of everything about jason— about red here. he doesn't have to do this— could just leave here him to bleed out, especially after everything's said in anger. but he's not and so it leaves him staring to the other.
at least until he lets his gaze drop to his chest there, reaching up to grip and tug the spike out from where it had embedded itself in his armor. )
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there's no one else here, but he lowers his voice anyway. ) It's Jason. Jason Todd. I'm adopted. Or I was, before I died. ( but he's not dead now. and he's not breaking into that just yet. doesn't want to tell the story like this, he wants to make it hurt. even if he's currently working on fixing bruce and his shit wounds up. can't let the man die, even if he's pissed at him.
how old is he? late twenties? when did he pick up dick, again? right around then, wasn't it? )
Take it off, I don't wanna have to spend time trying to figure out how you've boobytrapped your shit.
( the armor, it's in his way. is bruce bleeding out? maybe. does jason care? no. yes. but not enough to pull at clasps waiting for something to pop out and bite him. )
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jason todd. he stamps that name to memory and files it away for later when he's not bleeding out beneath his suit in a back alley somewhere in... wherever he is.
when jason goes and makes the demand for him to remove part of his suit, he looks up to him. sharp. untrusting. as if he'd just asked him a stupid thing. taking a moment, he swallows, glancing off around them. )
There's zippers in the back.
( like jason, his voice is low, even with it just being the two of them. )
But I'm not taking it off here.
( they're too exposed, even if it's some alley. it's still unfamiliar territory for him and he can't risk being unexpectedly jumped or worse when part of his suit is off. )
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( he can't tell how bad it is from here; it's dark, bruce's armored up, and the thermal scanners in his mask aren't meant to detect blood loss like this. he'll ask for an upgrade, later, maybe. usually he's the idiot he's running around with in the dark, and jason doesn't need to look himself over--and if anyone else is stupid enough to get themselves shot or worse, jason already knows how to get their shit off.
the first aid shit gets shoved back into his jacket, and jason leans forward to wrap an arm under bruce's own. yanks bruce up to his feet while he pulls himself up, so jason can pull bruce over up and over his shoulders. because a fireman carry is clearly way less embarrassing than being princess carried, and if bruce is down on the floor get up and walk is probably a shit idea.
excelsior isn't even close to his home base, but that doesn't mean jason doesn't have safehouses scattered around. but none of them are particularly close-- )
You gonna bleed out on my jacket if I have to take fifteen to get us to a safehouse? I can find somewhere else.
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draped over jason, he sighs, eyes heavy. he hears his words — bleed out, fifteen, safehouse — but can't find it within him to reply right away at first. when he does, it's a mumble. )
Alfred..
( alfred's not here and he wonders what he'd think if he were. what he'd think of this jason todd here helping him out after trying to shove his blade through his neck. if he could trust him. if he could trust bruce to be more like bruce and less like batman.
he wonders that as he starts to drift. starts to slip away from any sort of consciousness. just for a little. just... for a little. )
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( there's no alfred here, which sucks because jason would much rather throw this idiot right at him and fuck off. he'd throw him at dick who is here but clearly bruce isn't going to make it that long. tim's got his new healing touch ability, but last time he'd used it, it'd knocked him out--and jason wasn't even that hurt. tim would still use it; like the rest of them, his priorities are shit, ranking everyone else's safety above his own.
fuck that, bruce can bleed a little. or knock himself out. or both.
he keeps an arm locked around the back of bruce's knee, wrapped around to hold onto his forearm. drops a hand down to grab onto the third gun at his waist--the grapple. rooftops aren't safe, but they're more likely to find one of their own up there instead of more deadly plants. if they're lucky, jason'll be able to spot kyle flitting around the skies like the glowstick he is.
finger on the trigger, and the grapple releases to lock itself in against the fire escape trailing up brick. jason grunts when it catches, when it pulls on his arm, because it's damn near twice the weight he's used to carrying, but it's not the first time he's lugged their people around either. the grapple yanks them up, and jason manages to catch a boot against the end of the fire escape to pull them up onto it. doesn't try to make the leap to the roof from here, because someone's bleeding and the impact of that would most likely jostle him more. the grapple's pulled loose, and he drops it back into it's holster.
uses his now free hand to grab onto the rail just above them to yank them up another floor. gets luckier still, because the blinds on the next window are wide open showing an empty room. no furniture, no nothing. his grip on bruce tightens, adjusting him over to the side so jason can reach back into his jacket. pulls out another knife, one with a more pointed hilt [because why carry other tools when he can shove everything he needs into a knife?] and slams it straight into the window, shattering glass. puts that knife back away so he can shove his fist through what's left, pull any sharper edges off and out. it won't hurt him, not with his decked out stark suit, and fuck if it doesn't piss him off more that he's still thinking of ways to keep bruce from getting more mangled.
doesn't matter. it's not a massive window, so jason slouches down, hand not keeping bruce from falling onto his face against the window frame to hold them up as jason lets them in. drops heavy boots onto the ground, and takes a good few steps away from the window to avoid the glass mess before he's--less than gently dropping bruce down onto the floor.
it's fine, he'll patch him up anyway, and clearly dropping him is a great way to wake him up. )
You're gonna owe me a new jacket. This one was my favorite.
( and now it's covered in batman germs. gross. )
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despite the change of scenery and being away from prying eyes, he still feels on edge. regardless of who he is to jason, he doesn't know him and, in all honesty, he did try and gut him like a fish back in the alley.
and now they're here.
the sound bruce makes is one that's pained, face scrunching up as he tries to move to sit up. it ends up being more of a roll onto his side — his good side — arm braced to hold himself up as he takes a second to just breathe. head hanging, eyes shut, he does his best to will the pain away before he's swallowing, head tipping back, and he's unfastening his cape with tired fingers.
the moment it's off, he rests against his arm, head hanging again, another breath taken. )
There's two zippers at the back.
( words that are soft— strained. but jason should be able to see the zippers he's talking about running on a slight diagonal next to each other. that'll take the armor off his chest — let him breathe a little easier without being so padded up. ironic, when that's typically what he wants. )
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except he's rolling on the ground, in pain, because he's an idiot and jason must be one too, because he's getting back on his knees on the ground and shoving the cape out of the way so he can look over the suit, finding those zippers so he can pull them down. jason's careful, using his other arm to help support bruce's weight so he doesn't strain too much. even if he did just toss him onto the ground.
once the zippers are down enough, he's yanking hard on fabric to pull it down and off. )
This's a temporary truce. ( in case bruce thought this was something else. ) Nightwing'd kill me if I let you die. I'll go back to beating the shit out of you later.
cw: blood and injuries
the sound of relief that leaves him when the armor's pulled off... suddenly he can breathe a little easier than he had been. the damage done to the suit is nothing he can't fix— well. back in gotham, that is. however, there's old gashes and marks littered across the suit. a telltale sign of the breaking in of the suit that's already been done.
the damage done to his body is a little more severe.
bitemarks run along his left side. four of them, from the looks of it. three a little more deep than the fourth and he doesn't believe anything major to have been punctured. the wound still remains angry and bleeding, some blood having already dried around the edges of the bites, wet and oozing.
the newer one — the one at his chest doesn't run as deep as the bitemarks thanks to the chest plate armor, but it still leaves him with an angry wound just beneath his collarbone. blood drips a little more from this one, given how fresh it is, and he stares at the drops hitting the floor beneath him, watching the way they form a pattern of sorts with every drip.
eyes falling shut, a heavy breath on his lips, he winces some as he tries to move — tries to shift into a somewhat better position. )
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the chest wound concerns him the least, which also pisses him off. it's not even jason's fault bruce is in shit shape, he just happened to be around when he fell apart. )
Good news: you're not gonna bleed out. Even if you're being a baby over a couple bites. ( the sass just comes naturally: jason doesn't know how to shut up. he sits back on his heels for a moment, moves a hand up to shove it against bruce's chest. not where the spike-wound is, but close enough to jostle it a little. he said this is a temporary truce, he didn't say he's going to be nice about it. )
Down. My bedside manner isn't even close to as nice as Alfred's, so you're just gonna have to suffer through it.
( while he sifts through his jacket again, pulling out the first aid kit. he'll get the bandages later. )
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