|Dick Grayson has too many siblings (onatightrope) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2010-07-21 15:12:00
|Entry tags:||dick grayson/nightwing, sora|
Who: Dick Grayson and Sora
When: TODAY- late afternoon.
Where: The city
Warnings: Bad things!
Dick was getting used to things, it was all crazy and hectic but no less hectic than Gotham or Bludhaven. So really he couldn't complain. It was a different kind, but nothing he couldn't handle right? Bad guys were still bad, just a different way of taking them down. And Dick was learning. Clark was a big help, showing him the ropes. Normally Bats and Supers would butt heads, but younger Clark wasn't as impossible as the Clark he knew when it came to "family values". It made it easier on Dick's part to befriend him without Bruce telling him wordlessly to back down. He was dressed in his civis, on his way back toward the complex when he decided a coffee break was in order. It'd been a while since he'd had a good dosing of caffeine. He was sleeping better these days so he'd typically tried to avoid it, but no use in avoiding normality right? He needed to get back on track. Back on schedule.
Just because he was in another universe that was no reason to get lost and confused in a mess of chaos and hell demons. Literally. Coffee would help, and then later that night he would patrol. He needed to stop slacking. A few days to adjust was fine, but it'd been almost a week since his last city sweep. That could only mean badness. He didn't want to be forgotten by the locals after all. That would just be sad. He needed to be fresh in their memory, needed to make sure they understood how things were going to go from now on. The city wasn't theirs for the taking anymore, not if Nightwing could help it.
Ordering up a latte he held the warm cup in his hands and nudged his way through people back out onto the busy city sidewalk. The sun was nearly ready to set. There was a sort of spooky feeling all around. He couldn't quite pin point it, but everything was quiet lately. The complex had been quiet, the usual patters of feet he heard at night up and down the hallway had stopped. He was starting to feel that familiar tingle down his spine that something just wasn't quite right. Still he didn't look much further into it, he chalked it up to his paranoia and shoved a hand into the pocket of his jeans. The other held onto the cup and he took a sip as he headed back in the direction of the complex. He still didn't like it. It felt like being trapped, and if there was anything Dick Grayson couldn't stand it was the idea of being hand forced someplace he wasn't meant to be.