InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "can we dance?"

Dick Grayson has too many siblings (onatightrope) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2010-11-18 23:58:00

Entry tags:

dick grayson/nightwing, jason todd/red hood

Who:Dick Grayson and Jason Todd
What: working together?
When: tonight
Where: Jasons Territory
Warnings:TBA

Dick wished he hadn't left his place. He didn't know where to go. Or if he'd be welcomed when he arrived. Seeing all those bodies again had thrown him for a loop. He should have acted accordingly. He should have done his job and figured out what their time of death was, and what killed them. But he couldn't get out of there fast enough instead. He left before he did anything, but he couldn't get those burnt faces out of his head. He found it hard to breathe after that. It felt like his chest was burning. He wanted nothing more then to go back into hiding. He'd spent years as a hermit, living by himself, and for himself selfishly away from those he used to call friend and lover. After they lost the fight and Kansas slipped into a war zone, he didn't see a point anymore. The way things were going, they were all going to die anyway.

But something stopped him from disappearing again. Maybe he'd developed a conscious again. Or maybe it was really that he couldn't find his way back. Both were distinct possibilities. When he first found that place and called it 'home', it was dark and everything was different. He could barely sector the city off like he did every time he came to a new city or place like he'd always done in the past. With the amounts of destruction Lawrence had seen, it was difficult. Leveling next to impossible.

Still he kept going, walking through the rubble and unaware of the hot zone he was nearing. Unaware of who's territory he was stumbling into. Dick was dressed in civis. It'd been a long time since he needed his Nightwing Kevlar. He sincerely doubted he'd ever pick it up again, despite Stephanie and Ron telling him how bad off things had been, and how they all needed to fight together. It was a nice speech, but after they lost Dick's mindset was drastically altered. He didn't want to fight anymore. He didn't have a reason to fight. The world didn't need Nightwing, and so he slipped between the cracks.

Unfortunately that wasn't the case this time. The further and further he walked into Jason's corner of hell on earth, the more his senses kicked in and started attempting to warn him of the bad ahead. Dick hadn't been training in all that time off, he hadn't been honing his skills, and so despite his bodies tension as a warning he hadn't even stopped to consider the danger he was walking into. He'd given up plain and simple.

There was a noise behind him. It was so loud and obvious that he really couldn't ignore it, and when he turned around he wished that he had. There were four croats closing in on him from behind. Dick looked around for something to use as a weapon, but he found nothing. He backed into a defensive stance and his shaggy, unkept black hair fell into his eyes. It'd been so long since he fought that his muscles were achy even with before the fight began at the foreign movement. One of the croats advanced at a rush, and Dick kicked it back into it's friends. The small group stumbled and fell. Dick looked for a way out, but there was none. On the other side of him, more croats were gathering at the sound of the scuffle they'd been alerted.

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renegade_robin
2010-11-21 04:48 am UTC (link)

It didn't take long for the Hoods to scatter onto the scene. Croats stepping into their territory always brought up a red flag, seeing as they weren't terribly subtle and couldn't get more than five paces into Hood areas without someone catching a glimpse. Strangers were watched closely on this land. If one person seemed even the slightest bit off, they were shot down, dragged to Jason, and dealt with accordingly (if they managed to survive the trip over). Fortunately for Dick, the sight of Croats surging onto their property took all the red-hot attention off him. The Hoods were more interested in the obvious threat first; that meant that, for now, he was safe. How long that would last after the Croats were gone, however...well. That was another story.

The Hoods dropped in from all over, guns blasting wildly in the dark. The Croats bodies crumpled to the ground one by one, flailing back and forth and turning in every direction until there was only but one left standing. The firing stopped, but the guns didn't drop. Each and every Hood, dressed in their grungy street clothing, stared Dick down with dark, intimidating looks pressed clean across their faces. It wasn't that crap intimidating look that people saw in the movies either - this was real, raw, and deadly. One could tell that if they pushed these people the wrong way, they'd be sure to suffer for it.

None of the men spoke. They merely stood there, steadily keeping their weapons focused on the intruder. There must have been about ten of them standing in a circle around Dick, blocking out every single exit that he had available - save one. Soon enough though, that one, too, was covered as a dark figure began to move forward and fill in the gap. He wore a black leather jacket, matching black jeans, a pair of biker boots, and a blood-red helmet on his head. An AK-47U was strapped to the man's shoulders, partnered with the pair of handguns that he wore strapped along the underside of his jacket. In his hands was a long, jagged knife. A gift. One that Jason Todd cherished greatly.

Through the helmet, Jason examined the catch. He had been patrolling not too far from where they now stood before the action began - Jason took it upon himself to walk among his men, as to prove that he was a fair leader - and it hadn't taken him long to jump onto the scene. He was grateful for that. Because if he hadn't gotten here now, there was a good chance that the man that they had trapped would have tried to run off. And that would have been a shame. Jason wouldn't have wanted to find Dick Grayson in pieces.

That would have been a very depressing family reunion.

"Lost, are we?"

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onatightrope
2010-11-22 07:57 pm UTC (link)

If he'd been at his prime, Dick might have stood more of a chance. Both against the croats and the gunmen. But it'd been so long since he'd even done a push up that his reaction timing wasn't as sharp as it once was. With croats finished, and guns pointed, Dick found himself trapped like a deer in headlights and swore internally. He looked for exits, but they'd circled and swarmed in like water. Closing him in with not even a single air bubble, Dick didn't enjoy the feeling of being trapped. It was something he hated actually. Being boxed in made him all kinds of antsy, but never the less he didn't want to irritate the men with the guns pointed at his head at this juncture, so he raised his hands in a form of surrender.

"So about that last left turn.. If you guys could just give me directions to the other left turn that looked identical to that one I'll be on my way." Still with the jokes even after all those years of harsh warfare and complete and total devastation. He was different looking in civilian clothing. But if Dick needed too he could still very much defend himself, despite not being armed. He was never armed. Anyone who knew him, knew that. Dick Grayson hated guns. He would never carry. Even in croat-land he didn't even try. He'd taken plenty of weapons away from croats, but he'd destroyed them thoroughly afterward.

He didn't want anything to do with them. Dick looked up at the voice that separated through the crowd. "You could say that. My map sucks." Trying for the humor again. Though it was weak footed. Dick hadn't had much human contact in the last few years to be practicing on. He'd only recently rediscovered the boards were still in use. Why they bothered, he still didn't know. Dick was no longer as fond of them as he used to be. He doubted he'd be frequenting them as much even though they were there.

"I'll just be on my way now." Again with the almost sing song sarcastic tone. He tried not to look back at Jason's men. The look on their faces gave him the chills. But despite his statement, Dick didn't move. It didn't look like the gunmen were about to budge either. He wasn't suicidal after all.

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