dick grayson » ROBIN (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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maskormenacelogs2016-10-18 08:38 pm
performance) wrote in maskormenacelogs2016-10-18 08:38 pm
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(no subject)
WHO: Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne
WHERE: Casa de Bats
WHEN: Early October
WHAT: Dick pays Bruce a visit.
WARNINGS: Emotional constipation?
[ It's a strange feeling, letting himself into the manor, knowing that it's just him and Bruce again. Dick hadn’t had time to get to know the others, not the way he would have liked, and whether it's his fault or not, that weighs on him. He’s not going to make the same mistake with Bruce. ... This Bruce, anyway.
This place is headache-inducing sometimes.
But the fact is, if he’s the only one left, then The Care And Feeding of the North American Batman falls squarely on his tiny shoulders. And even if it’s still awkward, even if he’s uncertain where they stand and not sure how to ask, he can’t let Bruce do that thing he does where he pretends he doesn’t have feelings.
And that’s how he ends up dropping in on Bruce in the middle of whatever work he’s doing. ]
Knock knock. Wait, should I come back in silently, through the shadows?
WHERE: Casa de Bats
WHEN: Early October
WHAT: Dick pays Bruce a visit.
WARNINGS: Emotional constipation?
[ It's a strange feeling, letting himself into the manor, knowing that it's just him and Bruce again. Dick hadn’t had time to get to know the others, not the way he would have liked, and whether it's his fault or not, that weighs on him. He’s not going to make the same mistake with Bruce. ... This Bruce, anyway.
This place is headache-inducing sometimes.
But the fact is, if he’s the only one left, then The Care And Feeding of the North American Batman falls squarely on his tiny shoulders. And even if it’s still awkward, even if he’s uncertain where they stand and not sure how to ask, he can’t let Bruce do that thing he does where he pretends he doesn’t have feelings.
And that’s how he ends up dropping in on Bruce in the middle of whatever work he’s doing. ]
Knock knock. Wait, should I come back in silently, through the shadows?
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[Bruce responds from the computer. He doesn't turn around, and the screen (the multiple screens) are filled with an overwhelming amount of different things happening all at once. He seems to be paying attention to all of them. Half of the cave itself appears to be halfway disassembled and in the process of reassembly, as though Bruce found the current setup good, so-to-speak, but not satisfactory. That, of course, meant re-engineering large portions of it until it was.
It's not the worst he's ever looked by a long shot, but he clearly hasn't bothered shaving for a day or two, that rugged five o'clock shadow present on his face.]
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[ A day or two isn't... the worst. Goodness knows Dick's done the same on more than one occasion, sometimes longer than that. He skips the stubble, but still.
Dick glances around the half-deconstructed cave with a low, impressed whistle. ]
Spring cleaning?
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[He replies dryly over the typing, a low police signal from De Chima and the other cities whispers in the background.]
But it's something like that. Out with the old, in with the new.
[There's no Tumbler certainly, but what looks like a... bright red Ferrari maybe?]
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[ He pauses, hands in the pockets of his jacket, before asking a question that he's not sure he wants the answer to. ]
Does your Batcave have a giant penny too? And a dinosaur? Back home.
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[He's joking, of course. But can you really tell sometimes? He stops typing at the mention of the cave's props, though, and looks back.]
They're mementos. [He says defensively and goes back to typing.] Of everything in the cave, everyone always mentions the dinosaur and the penny...
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They're memorable. And anyway, I'm only asking because I miss them.
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I know I cultivate the eccentric billionaire image, but dragging a mechanical dinosaur and giant penny in here may turn a few too many heads.
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It wouldn't be the same, anyway. It's homesickness, not... dinosaursickness.
[ He shrugs, rolling one shoulder and heads over to stand by Bruce's Batmanning chair. It's weird, how talking to Bruce again is both harder and easier than he'd expected. Like falling into an old familiar routine, but he feels like a different person now. ]
Even if everything was identical it wouldn't feel right.
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[After all, he felt the same way. Gotham was in his blood. It had a certain smell to it, he knew the architecture and history like the back of his hand. While this world was some version of Earth, it might as well be as alien to him as Krypton. Taking apart the cave and rebuilding it to his specification was in some way a way to make things feel a little bit more like home so he wasn't constantly uncomfortable.]
I ah... got you some cereal. For when you want to stay.
[He tries to explain quickly, because thoughtful Bruce is awkward.]
They don't have Crocy Crunch here, but I picked up whatever looked the closest-- Gator Gulp. I'm not sure if you like it like you do back home, but...
[He's rambling a little bit. He specifically avoids saying his Dick Grayson as though he somehow wasn't still his son, despite being a different version.]
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Some things are a constant, I guess.
[ He smiles, and it's a little strange and hesitant in the way of someone who's trying not to look as overwhelmed as he feels. ]
I can stay anytime. I mean, I like my roommates, and I've gotten used to living on my own, but with Wally gone, it's not the same. [ Dick shoves his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. ] I've spent a lot of time figuring out who I am, but I'd like to figure out how to be Batman and Robin again.
... Or at least Bruce and Dick.
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But in a world where the people you know can be here one day only to be replaced by versions you don't know at all, don't know you, he wonders to himself how he would really feel if this Dick Grayson didn't know him at all. To see the face of someone you considered your son and see a stranger. And Dick had been here for so long, and lived with all of that uncertainty, but did you ever really get used to it? Something like that?
He's not good with words, so he gives what he can.]
I think I can do that. [Tiny smirk. Maybe a smile even?]
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This Bruce isn't the same, no, but there's a point to start from, at least. He can work with that.
But before things can get too sentimental, he moves on to business. Let's not make this harder than it has to be. ]
So what are you working on?
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[He says with a sigh, rubbing between his eyes with one hand.]
Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to have what I have here, the company, this cave... [A pause.] But this other Bruce had a different way of looking at things. Decisions I would have made a decade ago, but... not now. If I'm meant to be here, I need to make sure that I can work the way that I want to.
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It must be weird, coming in to all this work that you didn't do. [ A brief pause. ] I've been here for two and a half years now, and I still don't think I've totally gotten over people expecting me to be a different me. I don't know what I would have done if I'd had someone else's literal shoes to fill, too.
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I must sound ungrateful, but all of this would have taken me years, more maybe, to have put together. The least I can do is to continue my own work, maybe make sure that the next me that comes here, the next us, if that ever happens, has everything they need.
[He pauses.]
Like a better suit. [He's still not sure about that suit.]
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It's not really "you," is it?
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[He says with great reservation, though there's a hint in his voice that says he has a much stronger opinion about it. But how do you insult yourself?]
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[ The voice is terrible and everyone knows it, Bruce, let's just get it out in the open. ]
1/2
It's good to know I can always count on you for honesty. [He says sarcastically.]
2/2
Did you know it makes that voice no matter what?
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You can't turn it off? At all? [ sorry Bruce but ] You should order pizza with it!
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[He closes his eyes, skin between them scrunching together as his brow knits.]
It's gone. I deconstructed it for scrap. It's served about as much purpose as it's going to.
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[ Dick turns on his heel, glancing around the cave. It's not like he'd spent much time in here before. There's no attachment to the place, really. It isn't home. It probably won't be anything like home, even with a more familiar-seeming Bruce taking charge of it.
He could wash his hands of it all. It's emotionally reckless, getting attached here, trying to build a life. He still has his best friend's college acceptance letter stashed in a drawer in his room, all the paperwork for a scholarship Wally will never get to use; two and a half years' worth of photos of friends and teammates stashed on secured flash drives; accumulated gifts and mementos from people he'll never see again, whether he gets to go home or not. Life is fluid. He gets that. Doesn't mean he has to set himself up for another suckerpunch.
It would be smarter not to. But still... Dick can't just leave Bruce alone with all of it. Not with Steph and Tim gone, on top of everything else. ]
... Do you want help with anything? I kind of — I don't exactly have any big projects these days. So it might be nice.
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He turns his head to Dick and thinks for a minute, before turning his chair completely to sit forward.]
The active camouflage was damaged on the car last night. You could give me a hand with that.
[Just dad and son, working on a car together like a completely normal, non-vigilante family.]
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Come on.
[At the car, he holds his thumb to the face of his watch, a secret thumbprint scanner, and the car literally transforms-- armored plating raises raises around it, while the back portion retracts to reveal two huge rear exhausts with fins protruding parallel. The red fades to black... but then quickly fades back to red. He pops over to the drivers side and pops the hood, then peeks his head up and raises an eyebrow at Dick.]
Why don't you take a look.
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[ Dick doesn't bother trying to hide the awe on his face. He knows cool, and that's cool. Why shouldn't he be impressed? Even if it's busted. He circles the car once, just to take everything in, then pads over to the front and peers under the hood, looking for a control panel. ]
You know, in the interest of full disclosure... when I got here, the Porter basically gave me the power to talk to computers. Which, yeah, is exactly as weird as it sounds, and half the time I don't use it because it feels like cheating, but. Just saying, I could probably sweet talk the car into working right.
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Maybe we'll talk about that a little later on. But for now... [He gives Dick a look, like he's secretly (or not so secretly) testing him.]
What do you think? The easy way or the hard way?