#that the fricking workshop on writing about it

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

This is so random but when looking at a series of online writing workshops as part of a university's event for writers the first workshop I'm drawn to, and intend on booking, is one on Writing Trauma and is overbooked and I genuinely can't decide whether it's funny, sad or uplifting that so many of us are going "huh how can I channel my trauma into my writing?" Since I love to laugh and because it is a little sad, I'm saying all 3.

#Like imagine trauma being that common #that the fricking workshop on writing about it #is OVERBOOKED #but okay playing Wet Blanket/Devil's Advocate here #say half of those are people not traumatised but people wanting to learn #how to insert trauma into their work #it's still just the tiniest bit morbid ya know #Like why y'all writing trauma into your work #we 👏need👏uplifting👏stories #*realises I was about to book trauma writing workshop* #OK WELL I'D BE THE EXCEPTION #BECAUSE I GO TRAUMA BUT THEN HAPPY ENDING #...but then what if loads of other people also think like I do #pain into beauty #you know see this is one of those things i'd observe and make some dudebro jokes over with certain people in my family #but then I'd be saying it and slowly having all these realisations that even in my amusement there's fallacies #it doesn't necessarily mean every person attending is traumatised #or that they want to write about it in a dark way #unless that's what the workshop's about wait- #*checks description* #stories of survival! okay so uplifting actually #but interesting that they specify the workshop to be for survivors and writers #-_- I partially stand by my original point #this was one hell of a thought trip #tags are literally just my internal mental journey sometimes #Star rambles #star speaks

[norahjakobs]

Earth 33: Outlaws - Playdate

Batman believes Robin could use more friends, he isn't really close with anyone at school and Gotham lacks anyone his age in the hero game. Luckily fellow hero Blue Devil also has a fairly friendless sidekick and could use some help with something down in LA. But when the two sidekicks get back from their adventure they find the adults missing and another kid, hijinks ensue.

This took forever to write, it also got a lot longer than it was suppose to but i guess that's the way the cookie crumbles.

Also no beta reading, we die like men.

Also heads up a character mentions being nauseous twice but no one throws up

The idea that he didn’t have enough friends was frankly, offensive. He hung around other students at free period, and sure none of them ever invited him over nor did he invite them over to the manor, even though he was sure Alfred would be thrilled to keep an eye on them and clean up afterwards if it meant he didn’t just hang around the manor alone for a little while. Okay he had to admit that maybe his school connections weren’t the closest but there were the other batfamily members! Like Dick who did make time for their phone calls and was there for him, not physically though since he was with the teen titans, well there was also Barbara and her… Okay honestly they weren’t the closest.

Ughhh dammit he was kinda lonely, wasn't he? He looked out the window of the batjet trying to figure out if he forgot anyone and could make a truthful argument that he wasn’t lonely, not even because he didn’t want to meet a fellow sidekick, he was actually pretty excited about that part, and getting to go somewhere sunny thanks to Blue Devil and his sidekick Kid Devil basing out of LA. He just didn’t want Bruce to worry about him, and he knew there was already a million other things he worried about, that was just part of the deal of taking a kid from crime alley in, and Jason knew there wasn’t anywhere he could ship the baggage off to, it just had to stay by the door to be unpacked slowly, like it was fine china.

He had to wonder what a sidekick with probably a far less messed up history, and such a sunny place to work out of, because face it, working out of gloomy Gotham would have an impact on anyone, would be like? Hopefully not too much more reckless, he already had that covered in spades he had been told, and it would really suck if Batman and Blue Devil had to rescue them from the clutches of Polka-Dot Man. He would never be able to live it down, even just thinking of the idea had his cheeks go pink from embarrassment, he quickly glanced at Bruce who thankfully was focused on landing the jet. The last thing he needed was to explain he was worried about fighting Polka-Dot Man, what kind of sidekick worried about that? Him apparently.

The loading area behind a 4.5 star hotel seemed like a strange meeting place, but apparently Bruce and Blue Devil were meeting with Zatanna to talk about a case and she was staying in the hotel, so it just worked out best. Blue Devil looked just like he did on the old movie poster Jason had lifted off of the side of a movie theater, kinda badass but also down to earth in a way that was hard to place. Kid Devil who was rocking back and forth on his heels, looked like a complete dork, the little horns and tail were just too much in his opinion.

“They’re here!” Kid Devil pointed at them as they approached.

Blue Devil who had been facing the other way turned around and stepped over to Batman and shook his hand, “Glad you could come by,”

Batman raised an eyebrow, and lightheartedly asked “Why wouldn’t i?”

Blue Devil let out a chuckle and answered, “You bats aren’t really know for coming to sunny California,”

They continued to chat meanwhile Kid Devil basically ran over to Robin and extended his hand in an almost exaggerated manner, a big grin on his face “I’m Ed- Kid Devil, nice to meet you!”

Robin looked at him for a moment before shaking his hand “Robin, nice to meet you too. Gotta ask, are you always so... Excited or is it just when meeting Batman and Robin behind a hotel?”

He put his finger to his mouth thinking for a moment before answering, “Yeah pretty sure i’m just always this upbeat!”

They two could hear Blue Devil chuckle in the background and then turn back to Batman and begin explaining something, probably why his sidekick was so energetic.

Kid Devil turned back to Robin, “I’m really looking forward to kicking butt with you! There aren’t a lot of kids my age around here that fight crime,” he mumbled under his breath “And blue doesn’t let me help with his stuff often.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, “Why doesn’t he?”

Kid Devil’s grin faltered into a still somewhat happy looking neutral expression, Robin had to wonder if the guy was capable of frowning, he started rubbing his arm and his eyes lingered off to the side, “He thinks it’s dangerous or something, but the worst injury I've gotten was after crashing my bike on the front door of the workshop, and that was completely out of costume.”

Robin had to wonder if Kid Devil realized why that was his worst injury was because Blue Devil kept him away from the dangerous missions, but wasn’t going to bring it up. Nothing kills the mood for a hang out (as he insisted it was not a playdate like how Batman said it was) like telling the other kid maybe the adult is right. “That sucks, Batman lets me jump around on the roofs of buildings, and trust me, it's not as easy as it looks.”

Kid Devil giggled, “Do ever worry about falling?”

“Ehhh, I used to, but this-” He pulled out the grappling hook, “-helps with that fear a lot, besides I'm way better at parkour than I was when I started.”

“Could you show me how to do parkour? I mean this thing-” he grabbed a weird looking trident that was left on the curb on the loading dock, “-can fly so practically I don’t need to know, but it would be really really cool!”

Robin smiled at him, “Yeah sure, I'll show you a few tricks while we’re looking for Polka-Dot Man,”

He rubbed the side of his face, “That’s not gonna be a lot of time, because maybe this is just me trying to find Polka-Dot Man sounds like trying to find an orange in a empty parking lot.”

Robin chuckled, “We can take the scenic route back here once we’re done with him.”

“Awesome!” Kid Devil did a fist pump.

Man, here Jason was thinking Dick was energetic, and for Gotham city, he was. But LA was a lot less grim, maybe cause of the sun or the sea. Or the shine of Hollywood, Jason honestly wasn’t sure.

Batman and Blue Devil walked over to the two, having finished their chat. Blue Devil put his hands on his hips, “Well we’re heading to Zatanna’s room, you two have fun and be careful, once you’re done come up to room 503.”

“If you run into any trouble, Robin remember you have a communicator on you, we’re only a call away.” Batman added.

“We’ll be fine,” Robin rolled his eyes under his mask and waved the idea that there’d be any trouble away, “It’s only Polka-Dot Man, if we can’t deal with him i think we would have been out of the biz a while ago.”

Blue Devil sighed for some reason Robin couldn’t figure out. Eh, probably no reason, people sigh sometimes. He then turned to Batman, “Well I'm going round front, guessing you aren’t going to be using the elevator with me?”

Batman shook his head and walked off, probably in the direction of the window for the room.

“Can he not use doors?”

Robin shook his head, “No, he can. He just prefers the window, I mean have you ever heard of a bat flying in through a door?”

“No… But he’s not a bat, he’s a man.”

“A Batman.”

“Wait is he a vampire? He has been squinting a lot, and sticking to the shadows!” Kid Devil had the face of Newton when he realized why the apple hit him.

Robin frantically shook his head “No! He’s just a night owl,”

“Have you ever seen him eat?”

“Yeah, not a lot but that’s cause he doesn’t eat at the dinner table.”

“Where does he eat?” Kid Devil raised an eyebrow.

“We should get moving, we have a criminal to catch,” He was trying to change the topic from if his adopted dad was a vampire and onto the thing they were meant to be doing. Like the kid that diverted a conversation from the fact their parents's a teacher by suggesting they do chores together.

“Oh yeah right!” He mounted the trident like how a five year old mounts those toy horse stick things. “Hop on!”

Robin was apprehensive to ‘hop on’ like Kid Devil suggested. The thing looked barely safe for one person, let alone two. “Uh, are you sure it can carry both of us?”

“Yup! Tell me you aren’t scared or something?” Kid Devil teased.

“No way,” He climbed on.

And the moment they were off the ground he was screaming, he was fine in the jet but he wasn’t having the wind whip in his fac- Eww a bug just smacked in his face. How the frick did Kid Devil do this so calmly???

“Wooo!”

“AHHHHH!”

Kid Devil turned his head to face Robin with a look of concern, “Are you okay?”

Robin frantically shook his head, he felt nauseous, oh lord he wanted down. He looked down and oh god that was a mistake, he was fine when there was something to hook on to if he fell but they were nowhere near downtown LA. “I’m gonna throw up,” He managed to say in between the screaming.

“Okay okay we’re going down.”

The moment they were on the group Robin got off the flying trident from hell and gave the sidewalk a kiss, “Sweet sweet ground i’m never leaving you again!”

Kid Devil crouched down and patted him on the back, “Be glad we’re in a good part of town, if we were in Skid Row you would have probably just gotten some sort of disease.”

Robin sat down to catch his breath, “No need to tell me that, I lived in the Gotham equivalent before Bats took me in.”

Kid Devils eyes were wide with surprise, “Really?”

He nodded, “Yeah, can’t say it was fun or that it’s something fun to talk about..” He hated talking about it with anyone frankly, they all tried to be understanding and empathize but the only person he felt actually understood was Leslie Thompkins.

“Alright let’s change the topic! So where does Batman eat?” Kid Devil offer Robin a hand up, a hand Robin took.

He groaned and answered, “A cave…”

“He’s totally a vampire.”

The two continued to debate the topic as they tracked down Polka-Dot Man, took out his, like, three goons, and then punched him in the face and dragged his butt over to the police station. And then even continued as they entered the hotel, waited for the elevator since some other kid had just closed it as they had got into the entrance, went up and waited for someone to answer the door after Robin had knocked.

There was a strange lack of any response. Like there was no one in the room.

“Do you think we should knock again?”

Robin shrugged, and then Kid Devil proceeded to knock on the door continuously.

After a moment it was opened. Not by any of the adults they had been expecting but some kid with messy, slightly curly black hair and a rabbit themed t-shirt and a blankly confused expression. “Uhhhhh”

“Ummm”

“Who are you?” Robin asked trying to take a peek behind the boy as he waited for a response.

“Zach,” He paused and then presumably realized that was not identifiable at all, “I’m Zatanna's cousin.”

“Where is Blue Devil and the others?” Kid Devil wasn’t being rude and trying to get around Zach, but instead just acted like a normal person in a conversation.

Zach shrugged, “Uhh, no clue. I’m kinda hoping you two could help clear that up?”

He finally moved out of the door frame letting the other two get a good look at the hotel room. It was high class, had one of those tubs with the jets in them and a bathrobe left on the steps to it. But it also smelled of… those gunpowder poppers you could throw on the ground to make a sound and fire and there were scorch marks on the floor. There were no signs of a fight or struggle but the other things left behind didn’t paint the most optimistic picture.

Robin turned to Zach while Kid Devil just gawked at the room and checked under the beds. “Did you see or hear anything Zach?”

Zach covered his mouth as he thought for a moment, “I was down in the dining room, Zee told me she didn’t want me at her meeting cause there’d be important people and…. Oh my gosh she was meeting with Batman wasn’t she?!”

Robin nodded, “Uh yeah she was, but that’s not the most relevant thing at the moment, you can bother her about it once we know where she and the others are.”

“That’s just so cool.. Man I've got the coolest cousin ever! Anyways i was down in the dining room eating when I heard some very muffled yells, so i came up here to investigate and well you know the rest.”

Robin tried to remain calm. None of that was very helpful. Not at all. But there must be a way to contact them. He then remembered he had his communicator on him, duh this was gonna be so easy. Almost nothing on earth could block it’s signal. He pulled it out and started a call with Batman. Only to see static on the screen and hear white noise out of the speakers. He frowned at it and banged it against his hand, hopeing that it would fix the problem, but no dice.

“Crap.”

Kid Devil got his head out from under the bed, “What now?”

“Batman is somewhere really bad, i can’t get in contact with him.” He waved around the communicator to make sure Kid Devil saw it.

He could see both Kid Devil’s and that Zach kids hopes dashed in one sentence. They had probably, along with him, been hoping that this would something really easy to clear up and they could just go raid the vending machine while waiting for the adults to get back. But instead they kinda needed to figure out where they had gone, three kids, one of whom seemed like a civilian wasn’t much backup but they were the only three that would notice this for a while.

Zach started to pace, a frazzled, almost panicked expression on his face. Meanwhile Kid Devil sat down on the platform area the jacuzzi was in, seemingly trying to think of what to do. Robin just leaned on the wall, going through what plans Batman had made for situations like this.

If he were in Gotham he was suppose to be contacting Alfred, The Commissioner, or Barbara at the moment. But he wasn’t so he mentally moved on to the next plan. If in Metropolis- no that didn’t help either, he was in LA, was there a LA plan? Thinking about it for a moment, really trying to scrub through all the paranoid planning Bruce did, nope. There was nothing for LA. So it was time to fall back on to the specialized situations plans, the one most relevant seemed like it’d be the magic one…. But the plan there was to contact Zatanna and follow her lead and she was one of the missing people.

“What the heck do we do?!” Zach pulled at his hair, not hard enough for any to come out.

Kid Devil shrugged, not that Zach noticed that as he turned to Robin pointing his finger, “You! You’re the sidekick to freaking Batman! What do we do?!” Clearly this guy wasn’t used to stressful situations.

Robin raised his hands trying to calm the fellow kid. “We.. Uhh…. Say do either of you two know any magic users?” He had to hope they could at least list one, for crying out loud Zach was Zatanna’s cousin, surely he’d know at least one. Hopefully one that’d be helpful, he didn’t want to get stuck calling the talking monkey.

Kid Devil shook his head. Unsurprisingly being the sidekick to a guy that was just stuck in a suit in the middle of LA wasn’t prime meeting magic people circumstances. “No one i know, Zach, buddy what about you?” Kid Devil was maybe too friendly for his own good, they had know Zach for a total of what? Five minutes and he was already calling him buddy, and not even in the tone that people use when the person isn’t actually their buddy.

He rubbed the nape of his neck as he answered. “Uhh, i do know Zee’s ex….. I even have his phone number,”

Robin grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the face, “Perfect. What is his number?”

Zach took a moment to rattle off the number as Robin put in each number in the hotel landline left on the desk of the room. It was almost going to stop ringing by the time the person on the other end picked up.

“Who on ‘earth is ‘this? And how’d ‘ya get this number?” He spoke with a strong scouse accent, and in an annoyed tone.

“Robin, Zatanna’s younger cousin gave me the number.” He stated it matter of factly, hiding the nerves that were twisting in him as each minute passed, what if something awful had happened. What if they were all overreacting and the three would be back once this call was done. Either idea terrified him, just for completely different reasons.

“Ah the Bat’s sidekick, now why ‘in hell are ‘ya calling me? And also why ‘ya ‘round Zach, the kid doesn’t get out much.”

Robin played with the cord as he explained, “Well you see… Uh, Batman was meeting up with Zatanna and Blue Devil in Zatanna’s hotel room while me and Kid Devil were off with each other, we came back and they were gone, and there’s scorch marks on the floor and smells like someone threw down some gunpowder poppers on the floor. Uh as for Zach he was getting babysat so was in the hotel.”

“Hmm,” He paused for a moment before seemly rifling through some papers, what they had on them Robin could only guess, “Ah shit, the smell you're describing is brimstone, one of ‘the telltale signs ‘of a demon. Where’d ‘ya say this hotel room was again?”

He hadn't even asked in the first place but Robin didn’t mention that as he detailed both the address and the room number.

“Alright, ‘hold tight i’ll be ‘there in a few,” The phone clicked off, he just hung up.

Kid Devil looked like he was about to burst with anticipation, “So what’d he say?!”

“He said he’ll be here soon, i’m not exactly sure how he plans on getting here so quick but he said to just hold tight.”

Zach shrugged, “Well if he’s magic like how he says he is he’ll just.. Like appear or something.”

Kid Devil raised an eyebrow, “Wait, ‘like how he says he is’?”

Zach shrugged, again. He was not very sure of much was he? “I mean i’ve never seen him do magic,”

Robin blinked a couple times, “Wait….. Do you not know about.. Ya know?” Anyone with some knowledge about the magic community, including Jason who only overheard stuff, knew that Zatanna’s most notable ex was John Constantine, and that he was magic as fuck. Not that anyone would say the second thing in front of him, they thought he hadn't heard even worse than that.

Zach shook his head, “What are you talking about…?”

Kid Devil piped up, “Your cousin actually has magic and so does her ex.”

Zach took a moment to process it, “I knew it! There is no way you could fit so much stuff in a hat otherwise, plus those sparkles she can make seemed way too shiny, and-” he continued to list things to himself that now made a lot more sense, it seemed like he was more convincing himself he should have figured it out sooner than that he was listing reasons he already figured it out.

Kid Devil came over and stood next to Robin. Both of them watching Zach pace and continue on to no one in particular. Kid Devil turned to Robin, “So we just sit here and wait?”

Robin turned to him and nodded. “Yup, sit and wait.”

“It kinda makes me feel useless, I feel like we should be looking for clues, putting them all together, bursting in last moment and rescuing our mentors plus Zach’s cuz, and instead we’re what? Waiting for another adult to show up and probably take the problem right out of our hands?”

“I feel you, but i mean we don’t know anything about magic. And that seems to be the problem, I've got no idea what magical causes there are for a brimstone smell and I don't know where to start with this! Like agreed it’d be awesome if we could burst in and help! But I don't think today can be one of those days, I don't think whatever this is is something we’re ready to deal with. Plus I don't think we should leave Zach over there alone in case something dangerous is around.” It sucked to have to be the mature one but he was used to it, he used to give advice to some of the other street kids and now he was Batman’s sidekick, other young heroes would listen to him.

Kid Devil sighed, “I get that, still feel kinda useless.”

Robin patted him on the shoulder, “Honestly, same, I'm Robin and i feel like i can’t do anything.”

“Misery loves company they say, i guess that also rings true for other bad emotions.”

“From my experience i can confirm.”

The background chatter of Zach talking to himself suddenly stopped as he turned to the other two boys. “Are you two even hearing what i’m saying?”

“Ehh i think we both started tuning it out when you got to the part about sparkles, sorry.” Robin didn’t even think the guy had been expecting the both of them to listen to any of that.

Kid Devil shook his head with a guilty look on his face.

Zach waved his hands dismissively, “It’s fine, i think i got on a tangent there didn’t i?”

Kid Devil and Robin nodded at the same time. “Yeah you did,” Robin confirmed.

“I just start talking then i can’t stop till i’m done what i’m saying, it didn’t annoy you two did it?” He rubbed his arms as his eyes wandered to the floor.

Kid Devil immediately answered. “No! I actually get that sometimes too, though usually when i’m talking about movies or movie making.”

The was a small smile on Zach’s face. “Heh, I didn't think anyone else did that.”

So they loitered around the hotel room for 15 minutes, most of which were spent watching Kid Devil trying to find a good movie on the TV and sharing fun facts about a couple of the ones they didn’t pick off the TV guide. Then the sound of knuckles against the wooden door could be heard over the action flick the three had settled on.

Robin went to the door and checked through the peephole before opening it, “Hey does your cousins ex looks like a private investigator in need of better pay?”

“Yeah that would be him alright.”

He opened the door to only be hit with the smell of strong booze and smokes, the smell seemed like it cling on to this man like a toddler to a parent in the supermarket. He held himself with confidence though, his hands in his pockets and an expression that bordered on unhappy but didn’t tip toe over the line.

“So what do ‘ya guys already know?” He went to reach for a smoke but everyone shot him a look and he seemed to then remember both that he couldn’t smoke in a hotel and that the room was full of kids.

“Zach heard some noises, and basically all the stuff you can figure out by looking around the room. Also there is nothing under the bed.”

John approached the bed where Zach was sitting on the edge of. “So what’d you ‘hear, Zach?”

“Well i was down in the dining room so i-”

John cut him off. “You ‘were in the dining room?”

Zach nodded.

“The one down four floors?”

Zach nodded again.

“Alright there’s no way ‘ya would have heard much of ‘anything from down there unless Zee used some magic to try and tell ‘ya something, continue on.”

“Like I was saying I was down in the dining hall eating some brownies when i heard very muffled shouting, it sounded like two men and Zee. I got up here as fast as I could but no one was here when I got the door open…”

“Alright, and could you make out ‘any of the words ‘anyone was saying?”

Zach thought hard for a moment before answering. “I think I heard something about Wrath?”

John mulled the word over, “Wrath, wrath, hmm there’s gotta be someth- Ah! I ‘know i think ‘ya heard Rath.”

“Yeah that was it! You have to admit it does sound a lot like Wrath…”

“Who’s Rath?” Kid Devil asked.

John shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he began to explain. “He’s a demon. ‘One of the demons ‘three, three demon brothers that cause a lot ‘o problems for people. Two of ‘em already are banished to hell, ‘hopefully for good. But Rath, the bugger is still on the loose. Not for much longer if me ‘and Zee got anything to say about it, though.” He started to march out of the room.

Kid Devil half raised his hand, “What do we do since you’re leaving?”

John paused his march for a moment and shrugged, “Keep ‘yourselves busy ‘and stay in the hotel.” He then exited through the door before anyone could ask for any more specific rules.

Kid Devil turned to Zach, “Is he always so…. You know.”

Zach nodded. “Yeah just about, he was a little nicer and put together when I was younger but he’s let himself go.”

Robin interrupted the two of them. “Hey guys, tell me, what just happened.” A mischievous smile was barely being contained as he asked.

“John just left us alone and told us to stay in the hotel?”

The grin crept onto his face. “Exactly, we my friends, have been left with no supervision in a hotel. And guess what i’ve got?”

Both Zach and Kid Devil looked upon him like he was some sort of great leader, paving a new path as they realized what he just said was true. They did just get left with no supervision. “What?” The both asked.

Robin rifled through his belt, where oh where was it? There it was! He pulled out, the batcredit card and held it up ala an item in the legend of zelda.

Zach burst out laughing meanwhile Kid Devil looked confused, “Why on earth do you have that? Why does Batman have one of those?”

Robin shrugged, “Sometimes we have to pay for stuff, and it’d really ruin the whole secret identity thing to whip out a checkbook and write down his name on it or pull out his other credit card with his name clear to see. Plus i can use this without anyone raising an eyebrow! At least if I'm in costume, I don't think I'd get away with it in my civilian identity.”

Zach continued to laugh in the background while Kid Devil replied. “Huh, that actually makes a lot of sense, still pretty silly.”

“Agreed.” He knew all the practical reasons behind it but pulling out a credit card with a bat slapped on it to make it bat themed so it’d match everything else did feel ridiculous.

“Say, you haven’t actually told me your name, can i ask what it is?”

“Nope, sorry. Bat’s is really strict on that, hell Nightwing couldn’t tell the teen titans for the longest time what his name was and in fact the only reason they know is cause he broke the rules and told them.” He did wish he could tell Kid Devil, trying to be friends with someone but not being able to tell them his name felt weird.

He looked disappointed for a moment before moving on. “Eh i get it. I’m Eddie by the way!” The name seemed to suit him, he just kinda gave off ‘Eddie’ vibes, though the idea that certain people seemed like a certain name would fit them was kinda ridiculous. By that logic he probably go by the name Hunter or Jaxon.

Zach raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget I'm standing right here?”

Eddie shook his head, “Nope! It’s just we’re a little more lax about idenites here, if someone really wanted they could do some googling about Blue Devil and probably end up with my address and what school i go to. Besides there are a lot of Eddie’s in LA, if you aren’t looking into Blue Devil you aren’t going to find me with only that information. Also i trust you’ll be keeping all of this to yourself, right?”

Robin raised an eyebrow and his mouth dropped a little, “It’s that easy to find out who you are?”

“Blue Devil isn’t exactly hiding in the shadows. Heck he was front page when the suit got stuck to him!”

Zach stared off for a moment, seeming to be in a little shock. “Yeah i won’t mention this, i mean i don’t really even know who i’d tell. My parents probably just go ‘that’s nice Zach, now go away’ and my friends would think i was lying.”

“Really?” Those seemed like some pretty shitty friends and dismissive parents to him. But it wasn’t like he was the expert on either, he barely had any friends and his parents were, gone too soon to be much of anything, dependent on him, or actually interested in him and what he was doing.

“Probably, i mean i don’t know for sure and i’m not going to test it.”

Robin thought about it for a moment. Batman would be so mad if he ever found out, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him and it wasn’t like either of these two would tell anyone. “You guys can call me Jason, just don’t do it front of Batman. If he found out i told you two he might rethink his golden rule.”

Eddie giggled, “Alright, I'll make sure not to do that Jason.”

“Also don’t say it in front of anyone else for that matter.” He did have to be careful, there were a lot of Jason’s in Gotham city, including the highly public Jason Todd adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, came from the streets. If anyone thought there might be connection that could spell so much trouble. Hell he realized he just handed over the tools to figure it out to Eddie since he already mentioned he grew up on the streets. It would take a leap of logic but it could happen.

“So basically it stays in this room and this room alone?” Zach said.

“Yup.”

Zach started pacing rubbing his hands together, “So back on the topic that we’ve been left without supervision, what do you two think we should do?”

“It might be fun to ride on the cleaning cart…. Let’s just make sure it’s not one in use, i don’t want to make the cleaners day even shitter than it already probably is.” Only after he was done his sentence did he realized he said shit in front of the other two. He had been trying to not swear in front of people but he grew up in crime alley, he had heard much stronger language almost everyday.

Eddie took a pause before speaking, “Yeah that’d be a lot of fun!”

“Then what are we waiting for?!”

The three headed out of the hotel room back into the hallway. The first cleaning cart they came across was in front of a room with the door left ajar, clearly in use. After a bit of sighing and Jason pulling Zach away from the cart they found another one. No cleaner in sight or clues that they’d be back anytime soon. They pushed it away from where they found it and took it down to the third floor at the end of the hall, no one would catch them there.

“So who goes where?” Zach asked staring at it.

“Zach you get to sit on the surface of it, Eddie you stand on the little edge on the front end and hold on for dear life, and i’ll stand on the back bit that sticks out and push.”

“Alright!”

They all got in their specified locations and Jason started to use his foot to push the cart, at first it was going slow. Though given how excited all of them looked, they might as well been nascar drivers. Then a little faster, Eddie gripped on to the cart a lot tighter and Jason followed suit, he didn’t really want to fall off.

“Faster!” Zach demanded, a grin on his face.

Eddie and Jason exchanged a look, on the one hand, neither of them wanted to get hurt and crashing into the door to the stairwell would hurt a lot. But on the other hand, it’d be really fun. But before either of them could decide if the reward outweighed the risks they could hear what was but a faint whisper, “Retsaf.”

The cart was now really picking up speed. Jason pulled his foot from the ground quickly as this thing did not need anymore speed than it already had. They were now barreling down the hallway, headed straight for the door to the stairwell. And worse yet Jason just remember that it's a push door, not a pull one.

“Weee!” At least Eddie was still having fun.

“Woo!” Zach also seemed to not yet realize the very present danger they were in.

“We’re headed straight for the stairs!” Jason panickedly yelled.

Their yells of glee quickly turned to screams of fear as they crashed through the door, skidded on the edge of the stairs, Eddie jumped off and landed on the landing for the third floor and then the cart went straight into the wall before the cart finally landed on it’s side, the wheels still spinning.

Jason could only see the roof above him as his senses processed what just happened and subsequently wanted to throw up. He felt a blunt pain where he had landed, nothing too bad but just enough to be unpleasant. Note to self, don’t ever do that again. He could hear Zach groaning a couple feet away from him, that was good as it meant he didn’t hit his head hard.

They both then could hear Eddie shout down at them, “Are you two okay!”

Jason weakly held a thumb up and shouted back, “I think!”

He could hear Zach pull himself off the ground and using the wall to support himself as he got up. “Speak for yourself, i’m not exactly used to getting banged around like that.”

Jason closed his eyes and just let himself focus on breathing for a moment. He could hear someone was using the stairs and frankly he had no idea if they were going up or down. Though judging by how light the steps were and the fact that Eddie nor Zach were talking it was one of them.

“Want a hand up?” Eddie asked. Jason opened one of his eyes to see Eddie crouching over him, a hand extended.

“Sure.” Jason got up with Eddie’s help.

“Let’s head back to the room.” Robin suggested.

“Yeah before anyone gets to the scene of our crime.” Zach dryly added.

The three rushed back up to Zatanna’s room. It was as empty as they had left it. All three of them had about the same idea as each other as they all rushed on to the soft bed. Much nicer to lie on than the scratchy carpet the stairwell had.

Jason still felt a dull pain in his torso where he had crashed against the handlebar of the cart. His costume didn’t let him easily check it but he was pretty sure a bruise had formed. “Hey does the mini fridge have anything really cold in it? I think i got bruised from that.”

Zach got up and checked, and then turned back to the bed and shook his head. “Not on hand, unless you want some barely cold vodka that Zee put in here before I had to leave the room, but I can order some room service and ask for an ice bucket.”

“Please do that.”

Once the room service arrived Zach got the bucket from them out in the hall so they wouldn’t notice how torn up the hotel room itself was. He then came back in and set the bucket down on the desk as he went and grabbed three towels from the bathroom, he set those down on the ground then dumped the ice on them and spread it out evenly between the three, he then bundled the towel and twisted the end till it wouldn’t just come apart if you let it go for half a second. He handed one over to Jason who immediately stuck it on top on where his bruise was, then one to Eddie who rubbed it over where he had got some scrapes, and kept one for himself that he was just keeping in his hands.

They sat like that and chatted for about five minutes before Zach started eyeing the bucket.

“What are you thinking?” Jason asked, his hair dangling off the bed with the rest of his head.

���I just remembered a cool trick i saw down in the dining room…”

Eddie who was lying belly first like how you’d see a sleepover in a girls magazine, looked interested. “Ooo, what sort of trick?”

“You get some strong alcohol, and you set it on fire.” The way he said it made it sound really cool, though it was a deceptively simple trick. “You know I could probably show you two if you guys wanted.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that it’d be safe?”

“I’ll do it in the metal bucket and i’ll even do it on the edge of the jacuzzi so if it gets out of control we can just push it in there!”

“Okay..” He was a little apprehensive about the idea but as long as they did it safely. And besides it’d be fun to see.

Zach grabbed the bucket, then the vodka out of the fridge and poured it in. He then looked around for a moment for something to set it on fire with. Jason tossed him a lighter with an extendable metal bit where the fire came out. He extended it and lit it and brought it to the vodka and…

It lit in blue flames! Eddie enthusiastically clapped and Jason had to admit he was impressed. Zach took a small bow “Ta dah!”

“That is so cool! How long will it stay on fire?”

Zach looked like he had a sudden realization, the look you get when a person realizes that they did leave the stove on. “Uhh, i’m not sure. The people in the bar would just blow it out but i don’t think we can do that…”

Jason sat up on the bed to get a better look and also so blood would stop rushing to his head. “Alright let’s figure this out, we’ve got a bucket full of vodka that’s on fire… A thin spread of the right kind of alcohol will stay burning for only a minute or so but you poured the whole bottle in so-”

“Why do you know how long alcohol burns?” Zach asked

“Some idiot thought it was a good idea to throw a molotov cocktail at a police car and completely missed and got the sidewalk instead.”

“You know, stuff like that makes me glad i don’t live in Gotham.”

“Hey! Gotham is the best, it’s just got a couple neighborhoods where you gotta watch out a little.” Jason had his own problems with the city but he was a Gotham boy through and through, born and raised.

“Still i think i like New York better.”

“Anyways i think the fire should burn out in about… 8 minutes..” He wasn’t a hundred percent sure his math was right but he was pretty sure.

“Great..” From the way it sounded Zach did not think it was, “Great” but wasn’t going to raise any complaints.

“So while we wait for that to burn out could we do something remotely safe?” Eddie asked.

Jason crossed his arms. “Like what?”

“Hmm, I don't know. Maybe make a blanket fort?”

“If we’re going to do that we’ll need more blankets.” Zach pointed out.

“I think I can do that.” A devilish grin spread across his face.

Jason went alone, the other two were getting chairs, rope, and tape. While he was heading to the cleaning room. The lock on the door wasn’t much to contend with, especially since he got given real lock picks, not like the crappy ones he got used to on the street. He grabbed a couple of the clean ones, and avoided the ones that still needed cleaning.

They all met back up and started construction, Zach was in charge of direction as he had the most practice out of the three of them, meanwhile Eddie was in charge of getting the blankets where they were supposed to be, and Jason was put to tying all of it down and making sure it stayed together since he was the best knot tier out of them.

Once they were done Zach made some microwave popcorn while Eddie and Jason got comfortable. Eddie didn’t really seem to have much of an idea of personal space but Jason couldn’t say it bothered him that much.

Zach crouched down to climb in with the bag of popcorn, “Hey move over a little, you two are hogging all the space!”

Jason shuffled over to the side letting Zach slip into the majestic blanket fort they had made. Eddie grabbed some of the popcorn and stuffed it into his mouth.

They had just started chatting when they could hear the door open and the sound of several exhausted adults mummering at each other about demons and whether or not it was too nice to just seal them in hell. Then they suddenly stopped for a reason the three kids, frozen from surprise could see.

“Why the hell is there an ice bucket on fire next to the jacuzzi?!” Zatanna loudly asked.

“I was going to ask where they got all those blankets from.” Blue Devil added.

“Are you three why there’s a cleaning cart crashed in the stairwell?” Batman asked.

John stayed uncomfortably quiet.

Meanwhile the three of them looked at each other, slight terror in each of their eyes. Then they all clambered over each other and out of the blanket fort.

Zach began the explanation. “I wanted to show these two a trick I saw down in the dining room, and I guess it hasn’t burnt out yet.” He shrugged.

“As for the blankets we got them from the cleaning room, well robin did, me and Zach were getting the other stuff together!” Eddie cheerfully added

“We made sure it wasn’t a cart that was being used, besides we can pay for any damages done and leave a generous tip while we’re at it.” Jason tried to finish.

“How did it happen though?” Batman asked.

“Zach wanted to go faster, and we didn’t realize the door was a push one till it was way too late…”

Batman covered his face with his hand and shook his head disapprovingly. Though Jason could imagine there was a small smile on his face under his hand.

Zatanna slowly turned to John, giving him the sink eye. “John.”

“‘Yeah?”

“Why’d you leave these three unsupervised?”

“Well ‘lov, it’s not like ‘I've got babysitters in LA ‘already plugged into ‘my phone.”

“You could have call Mikey! And don’t tell me you don’t have his number, i know you sometimes ask him to send you pictures of me.”

“Look I didn't ‘think of it!”

The two continued on while Batman and Blue Devil awkwardly tried to give them their distance and the ice bucket finally burnt out in the background.

Eddie turned to Jason. “This has been a whole load of fun!”

Jason smiled at him, “Yeah it has.”

“Hey how about i give you my address and we can send each other letters!”

“Why not just exchange our phone numbers?”

“I mean we can do that too! It’s just fun to use out of date stuff, my aunt still uses vinyl cause of that reason.”

“Alright sure.”

They exchanged both their numbers and mailing addresses, and in doing that they both knew that it would definitely let the other one figure out who they were, but neither were all that worried about it. Jason was sure Eddie wouldn’t tell anyone.

Soon enough Robin and Batman had to leave and go back to Gotham. Though Robin got himself dropped off in the city instead of going straight to the cave, he needed to go get some stamps.

#jason todd #red hood #batman #dc #batfam #eddie bloomberg #red devil #kid devil #zachary zatara #zatanna zatara #blue devil #dan cassidy #bruce wayne #john constantine #my fan fic

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Travel Adventures: Vienna, Day 4

It was a cold and windy day, so my mom and I started with breakfast at Cafe Demel. Once upon a time, Demel was the imperial baker for the Habsburgs. Nowadays, they’re a ridiculously overpriced cafe near Stephansplatz, and a favorite indulgence of mine and my family’s. 

Every single one of their rooms are gorgeous, but my favorite place to sit is at one of the two small tables near the workshop, where you can see the bakers at work. In morning, you can see the interns churning out apfelstrudel after apfelstrudel, and later on you can see them making their gift shop treats and also see the cake decorators at work, which is also a blast.

My mom and I ordered the Wiener Fruhstuck, which was delicious and awesome: hot drink (ours were cocoa), orange juice, soft boiled eggs im Glas, & bread w/ honey and housemade jam. The orange juice was so fresh I thought it was Tang because it lacked the typical American prepackaged pucker. Go figure. 

Demel also has a killer gift shop. Also ridiculously overpriced, but you can get tea cookies, marmelades, candies, you name it. It’s like an Imperial Willy Wonka shop.

Afterwards, it was still windy and rainy, but on our way back to the hotel we found a bookstore on the Graben called Frick. It had an English language section, and guess what I found. A biography of Maria Teresia (the Empress not the nun), and a biography of Empress Elizabeth (aka “Sisi”). Both astoundingly intriguing women I’ve been dying to learn more about but haven’t found many decent biographies about.

And then I found two romanticized novels of Sisi’s life pre- and post-marriage, and as the single most self-romanticized empress in history, it would have been a disgrace to Empress Elizabeth’s memory not to get them! And then I found the writing journals... Yeah, you can easily see how my visit (and euros) went:

We would have spent the rest of the day getting cozy, but my uncle decided last minute he wanted to do lunch at the Tibet restaurant. That was all he said. And we were like, “yeah, okay, but what’s the name of the restaurant?” 

‘Cause like, we’re tourists and don’t have a shorthand for his favorite restaurants yet and need to google things.

Well...

Sorry, Uncle Dan.

I was stupid tired at that point and forgot to get pictures of my food, but the menu was basically variations of momos (Mongolian/Tibetan dumplings), and I had a bowl of momo soup, with meat dumplings. It hit the perfect spot for a rainy and chill day, and wasn’t too heavy either.

After that we stayed in and dug into our purchases. And did I read any of the new books I purchased? No! Because of this asshole, which has been 1/5 read for the past year and a half:

So I did some reading, and prepped some outlines in anticipation of the next day, which I knew was going to be mostly me writing in a library. It was the prelude to a series of relaxing days.

#travel adventures: vienna #day four #attempt number two #let's hope this works #cafe demel #frick #on the graben

[geraldfricke]

The Great Transformation to Web Society

Digitization is omnipresent as a slogan and stands for a Great Transformation in society - culturally, technically and economically. If we look at digitization only as a kind of a software update, we ignore this change. Platforms and networks are becoming increasingly important. I'm talking about the Great Transformation to a Web Society. I see uncertainties, but also great enthusiasm for this topic.

We are facing the transition to a platform economy. It's no longer all about selling products, but offering ecosystems for smart services that actually fits best to improve the users lives and works. Thinking in platforms and networks and developing business models to fulfill the needs of customers are the first challenges for companies, from local based start-ups to global companies. 

Consulting Gerald Fricke

In my consulting, I combine business knowledge, social sciences and a deep digital understanding. My goal is to help companies to write their own story of digital transformation and generate new revenue.

Digital transformation of companies (economic, social, cultural)

Conception: Digital strategy development, Social Web concepts, Corporate Communications 

Workshops: Smart services and ecosystems, living and working in the Digital Age

Keynotes: The Great Transformation to a Web Society (CeBIT, Köln Messe, StartUpCon etc.)

CV Gerald Fricke

2017 - 2018, CCO Online Football Association (OFA)

2008 - 2016, Technical University Braunschweig, Institute of Information Systems

Since 2008, Digital Transformation and Web Society

2002 - 2008, Consultant Corporate Communications (Autostadt, Bertelsmann Stiftung etc.)

2000 - 2002, Internet Conceptioner, Elephant Seven Hamburg (Mercedes, Mustang, Montblanc, Peugeot, Telekom etc.)

2001, Phd thesis about International Climate Policy

Gerald Fricke: The Great Transformation to Web Society; in: Stadtglanz 3/2017 (Abstract)

#Digitale Transformation #Digital Transformation #Digitazation #Article #Abstract #Stadtglanz #Fotos #Aufsatz

[iphoenixrising]

Writing choices

My lame ones:

1. I use formatting... a lot. Emphasis and voice, things I can kind of hear or imagine how it should sound? Something like that. The Joker has some thoughts on separate lines. Italics, ALL THE ITALICS. So I write mostly in Word or Google Docs and edit more in Word. I also ignore the suggestions more than I probably should (oops).

2. Cursing, which I use so much. I love using things like utter fuckery. Just, yes. If I was an ass-kicking late teen-ish to thirty, then I’ve earned the right to say any and all bad words. BUT! I use it in voice normally, like character is thinking/narrating kind of thing. I like the complex plots and plans with banter and funny stuff between. Like a plot-character development sandwich.

3. Punctuation abuse. Yup. Guilty. I like doing the whole What. The. Great. Fuck? I also like doing the side thoughts in ( ) just because thought boxes. Tim has some of the most epic thought boxes EVER. I do a thing that is just an ellipses in a thought box. It’s BRILLIANT. 

4. Alliteration, Assonance, and Consonance: All of these are simply the repetition of sounds in some form or fashion. So a daring, dashing vigilante. The sweet and slow stealth of soundless boots over the grimy pavement. Yup. I like how it rolls off the tongue. The repetition of vowel sounds is assonance, general recurring sounds alliteration, so yeah.

5. Long fricking sentences. Seriously. I regret nothing, but. Action has shorter, pointed sentences. Feelings and emotions have just so many modifying phrases with commas and recurring phrases (so like thoughts kind of?). Example: And this? Is a real offer from Ra’s al Ghul. It’s more than a bid for his time, his skill, his steal, his damn tendency for contingencies. It’s a bid to keep him because he’s capable, to keep him because he’s loyal, to keep him because he’s dangerous on the other side. 

6. Character voice. This. All of this. I like Dick being the guy to say ‘dammit’ as his worst cuss word and reserve ‘fuck’ for when shit has just hit every fan imaginable. I like each character having some kind of defining quirk or to build an identity out of mundane things since the characters themselves are pretty extraodinary. Jason Todd always has you feel me? And B is the one that brings it all together, Dick has the ultimate sixth (or seventh? Twelfth?) sense and can find a hurt anyone anywhere (really, he found B in space). Alfred is always going to shake his head at the antics of boys and Dami thinks all of them are dumb asses (but he would defend any of them with his last breath). Just, yeah. The little things.

7. Unbelievable smut. The smut I write about would probably never happen in real life. There’s things like frictions burns and just, yup. But, it reads well, yeah?

8. Cover both sides of the story. Ah, I write a lot of emotional things, and action-y things, so I like to have a round perspective if you want to think of it that way. I like to move from once character to another, to find some connection between them to make the change seamless. It could be the characters as standing in the same room, could be next to one another, could be seeing the same thing with different view points. Example: It starts with the explosion in Tony’s lab, directly triggering the aggravated Avenger’s alarm in Stark Tower. It moves smoothly into Captain America slamming out from his floor to take to the stairwell, still in his pjs and not a pause in his stride. He hits two floors down when Clint is the next one out, bow ready, quiver strapped along his bare back, and in a seamless move, steps up on Steve’s knees and then shoulder as the super soldier passes, vaulting over the edge of the railing and down into the depths; he hits a lucky move when Nat is already leaning over on her own floor, hand out. The grip is solid as her body loosens, pulls easily by the archer’s grip so they’re falling together, moving faster over the side, passing Bruce as he takes the steps two-at-a-time down. The inevitable thwhip is the line firing, catching on the upper railing to stop them in time to hit the secret entrance to the workshop.

#writing #because these are just things to throw out there #you should add yours #because that would be interesting

[structureandstyle]

Having a Coke with You

is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them                                                                                                              I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together for the first time and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully as the horse                               it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I’m telling you about it

--Frank O’Hara

I think I lost interest in poetry in part because I was so busy with classwork (taking and teaching classes as a PhD student) and in part because I tried to write it. In the fall of the second year of my PhD (I just finished my third year), I took a poetry workshop class, and I struggled. I realized that I wasn’t just reading poetry and commenting on it but trying to make it, to start with a blank page. The genre felt so foreign to me all of a sudden. I didn’t feel like I understood language anymore, and I certainly didn’t understand my own line breaks. The experience was very, very humbling.

By contrast, I have written creative nonfiction almost exclusively for more than ten years now. I still struggle at times; I thought about writing a teeth essay for over a year before I started it and then I wrote shitty first drafts for a year before I figured out what I was doing. But it usually always works out. Sometimes it even comes easily. So I always go back to creative nonfiction. I want to finish writing my memoir about the two (plus) years in which my life fell apart. (Perhaps you suspected this with some of the poems I was writing about on Structure and Style. I am really not such an enigma.)

But poetry hasn’t left me alone. I often come across poems that other people love or post or write about, and I look them up, and I think about them for days. This time, I was reading Durga Chew-Bose’s new essay collection, Too Much and Not the Mood, when I came upon her mention of how much she loves hearing Frank O’Hara read “Having a Coke with You,” “gleefully anticipating him saying yoghurt, saying flu-o-rescent orange tulips.” Suddenly, that’s the only poem I wanted to read, again and again.

Mostly, I love that this poem starts with some big names, some famous cities, and it mentions an enormously famous Modernist painting, Marcel Duchamp’s “Nude Descending a Staircase”--but none of those things seem to matter to the speaker. Having a Coke with you is what matters--and it’s worth the title of the poem. The speaker focuses on the small moments and says, “it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still / as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it.” Those seem like the most important moments in the world. He remembers “in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth / between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles.” He would rather look at the “you” of the poem than “all the portraits in the world.” He wants the experience, not just the art. He wants real life. We could make an argument for low art versus high art here, but I don’t really care right now. I just want to live in the moments of O’Hara’s poem. I just want to tell someone how much I love this poem.

-R

#poetry #lit #Structure and Style #Frank O'Hara #Having a Coke with You

[audreycritter]

The Babysitter’s Club: Tim and the Toddler

A fic for @komadoriwonder​ . Set in Cor Et Cerebrum Continuity and a follow up to “Jason’s Gots Kids?” 

Rated: G Gen/Family Bonding Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Isaac Wayne, Damian Wayne, Kiran Devabhaktuni 6463 words AO3 Link Here

**

The Babysitter’s Club: Tim and the Toddler

The ceiling fan whirs slowly above the bed while Tim stares at it and holds his cellphone to his ear.

“But why me?” he asks, in a voice that sounds too close to whining for his own comfort. “I don't know what to do with a baby.”

“He's not a baby. He's three,” Jason answers. “And he likes you.”

This point seems feeble to Tim.

“Isaac likes everyone. What am I supposed to do with him? Why can't Alfred watch him?”

“Fu--” There's a squeal of laughter in the background. “--dge, Tim. Tomorrow’s Alfred’s day off. There's no way in heck I’m asking him to give that up. He only takes like six a year and you know it.”

Tim flops over onto his stomach and buries his face in his pillow, then turns his head so he can talk again.

“Bruce?”

“Out of town.”

“Dick?”

“Working.”

“Steph?” Tim suggests, rolling again and sitting up a little.

“Volunteer hours for school. Trust me, I asked,” Jason answers. “I hate to break it to you, but you weren't my first choice. I didn't call you for a list of suggestions, either.”

And now his older brother is starting to sound pissed instead of pleading, his patience apparently wearing thin.

“He’s three,” Jason repeats. “I'll give you a list of stuff to do. You can even pick where you watch him.”

“Ugh,” Tim says, dropping back to the bed. “Not to be overly critical, but shouldn't you have found someone like, before now? Instead of a twelve hour notice?”

Jason makes a noise Tim cannot decipher. It might be a bitten-off swear. A high, plaintive voice is now wailing something incoherent in the background.

“Damnit, Tim. I already went over this,” Jason spits out. He speaks slowly, as if to someone stupid, and it irritates Tim. “I have a workshop tomorrow. I need the continuing education credit for my job and my foster parent file. Someone told me they would have childcare and I found out this afternoon they were wrong. I've been on the phone all day, and yes I tried everyone before you and before you suggest her, Cass has a ballet rehearsal and the last time she watched him all they ate was Twizzlers.”

“Don't you have friends?” Tim says, his resolve wavering. As much as the prospect of watching a toddler for eight hours terrifies him, the idea of leaving Jason actually stranded bothers him more.

“Yeah,” Jason says sarcastically. “I work full-time and I take care of Isaac. I have a ton of friends I can pay to watch him all day. I'll just scrape together $200.”

“I'll give you two hundred if you need it,” Tim says.

“Tim,” Jason says, back now to pleading. Tim knows from experience in other things this means that Jason is ready to snap, swear at him, and slam the phone down and hold it against him for weeks. “If it's gonna be eight hours after daycare all week, I’d rather him be with family. Please.”

It is the please, from Jason, that almost undoes him on the spot.

“What about Damian?” Tim says, wincing even as he says it. “Eighteen is old enough, right?”

Jason pulls the phone away from his face, Tim guesses, because he can hear a distant, “No, Zac, we’re not painting right now.”

There’s an angry, stomping cry.

Tim sighs and feels like the asshole he knows he's being.

“Ten minutes. I promise, ten minutes, look, when the frog beeps that's ten, and we can do bath crayons. Just let me tell Uncle Tim what you like to eat for lunch.”

“Uncle Tim!” the voice yells.

“He wants to say hi,” Jason says. “Say hi. No, he can't see that, it's not Skype. Yes, we can show Grandpa Bee. Later. Say hi.”

“Hiiiiiii,” Isaac says, his voice muffled. “Isawawobutithadlasershesmyfriend.”

“I didn't get any of that,” Tim says after the sound of a brief scuffle when it's clear Jason has wrangled the phone away. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “What time again? Can we do it at the Manor? My apartment is crap for kids and if I come to your place I won't know where anything is.”

“The Manor is perfect,” Jason breathes in relief. “He's got a bunch of stuff there and that room Alfred gave him. Thank you, thank you, Tim.”

“It's nothing,” Tim says, covering his eyes with one hand. “I'm sorry I was being a jerk.”

“If it makes you feel any better-- ow, Zac, did the frog beep? Isaac Alfred Wayne! No! Tim, I gotta-- okay, he took it out of his mouth. I asked Damian first but he said something about katana practice swords and I can't do that to Isaac, you know how D is.”

“Wait, you seriously asked Damian before you got to me?” Tim demands, sitting up straight. “Jay.”

“At least Damian said yes right away,” Jason shoots back. “I had to drag it kicking and screaming out of you.”

“I know, I know,” Tim says, crawling off the bed and dropping to the floor. He leans against the sideboards of the frame and drops his head against the twisted, trailing comforter. “I'm sorry. I just don't want to mess him up.”

“Tim, it’s like, eight or nine hours tops. I'm sitting on the kitchen floor and he’s watching me while he licks a bath crayon. He's pretty resilient. I think you'll manage. Seven in the morning. I'll try to feed him first but who knows how that’ll go.”

“Fine,” Tim says. “I can be an adult. Just...treat me like I'm dumb. Write it all down or text stuff or I won't know what to do.”

“I will,” Jason says. “This is my fault. I should have made you watch him sooner. Thank you. I’ll bring you coffee.”

“No,” Tim says, sliding sideways until he's slumped over on the floor. “Don't worry about it. If you get coffee that means you have to leave sooner and if you're in a hurry you’ll forget to tell me something important like that he's deathly allergic to mangoes or something I should already know and just...make it up to me later. I'll get coffee.”

“You're a lifesaver, Tim, honestly,” Jason says, sounding suddenly exhausted.

“It's fine. It's kind of my family job,” Tim says. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason says and it sounds like he's yawning. “A fricking lot better now. I'll see you tomorrow.”

The line clicks off and Tim doesn't move for a few minutes. He's twenty-three and suddenly feels younger and more foolish than he has in maybe a decade and considers texting Jason to apologize, again, for being such a stubborn, whiny shit.

He scrolls through stuff on his phone while lying on his bedroom floor and finds a gif he'd forgotten to send earlier, and sends it and the apology.

Almost as soon as it sends, the phone buzzes and he looks at the screen surprised by the quick reply.

Where are we gaming tmw? Do I need to come make your sorry arse clean first?

“Crap,” Tim says, moaning. He types half a message and then deletes it all and calls.

“Dev,” he says as soon as the call connects. “I'm so sorry, I forgot. We have to cancel.”

“You forgot our years-long tradition?” Dev questions. “The same one we've canceled two weeks now over bloody poor scheduling?”

“Don't be pissed,” Tim pleads, even though Dev doesn't sound too upset. “I told Jason I'd watch Isaac.”

“Oh, brilliant then, he found someone,” Dev says. There's a pause. “Hold up, mate, he asked you?”

“He asked you before me?” Tim exclaims. “What the hell. You didn't tell him no because of gaming day, did you? Because I'm gonna feel super awful if you did and I didn't.”

“Bloody hell, of course not,” Dev says, now sounding offended. “I've a shift until seven in the morning. I'm to be on-call for the emergency department and didn't want to leave him sodding stranded if I was called into surgery at the last minute.”

“Oh,” Tim says, relaxing against the floor again. “Well, I guess it doesn't matter. I'm watching him and I'll see you Sunday if it doesn't end up in catastrophe. I mean, I know he's a good kid, I just don't know how to keep him alive all day.”

“I'll swing by, yeah?” Dev offers. “If I’m busy all night and don't get to sleep in my office, I'll stop by my flat and catch a few hours and come ‘round at lunch. Are you at Jason’s, then?”

“The Manor,” Tim says a little less miserable at the prospect now.

“Lovely,” Dev says. “I'll bring the relief effort.”

“And coffee,” Tim says, glancing around his room that he should probably clean now if he's going to be gone all day tomorrow and won't want to deal with Sunday. “Bring coffee.”

Isaac Wayne is a wonderful nephew and Tim knows it. He is sweet and affectionate and liberally gives out hugs and smiles.

He is also losing his tiny mind.

Tim, despite his better judgment, patrolled for four hours after cleaning most of his apartment. And now, having left a whirlwind of barely-touched breakfast and snack foods in their wake, he is exhausted and following Isaac around as the kid runs from room to room yelling for people and at things.

After Jason dropped him off, Tim managed to more or less follow the list and it is during Isaac’s first frustrated meltdown at not being understood that Damian emerges from whatever lair he's been lurking in and watches, faintly amused. It does not help that he is almost as tall as Bruce now, head and shoulders over Tim.

“Don't just stand there,” Tim snaps, a bucking, shrieking toddler just barely captured under one arm. “Help or get lost.”

Damian shrugs and leaves, which is not exactly what Tim was hoping would happen. Still, even if Damian has mellowed a lot in the past few years, it's not like little kids are his strong suit any more than they're Tim’s. Especially crying, screaming, angry ones. Maybe if Isaac had fur and soft, floppy ears, Damian’s tolerance would extend beyond good moods.

There's the soft snick of a door locking that Tim manages to hear over a brief gap when Isaac stops to suck in air. That, from the direction of the front parlor, means Damian’s elected to retreat as far as the cave and Tim guesses he won't even see him again until he's out tonight, if then.

“Wanna go find a cat, Isaac? Where's the cat?”

“No!” Isaac shouts, twisting hard.

“What about a car? Do you like cars?” Tim pleads, cussing inwardly at himself for all the times Stephanie prompted just go play with him, nerdbrain, you won't always be able to just watch cartoons and he'd ignored her.

Swimming, he can do, but it’s too cold. Reading, he can handle but they've done all of Isaac’s favorites twice already. Jason had written in all-caps at the end of his page of instructions DO NOT LET HIM WATCH TV ALL DAY, TIM. ONE HOUR MAX.

Tim is saving that hour, clinging to it like a life raft.

“Cars?” Isaac sniffles.

“Cars,” Tim says again, relieved. “Wanna see cars? Real ones?”

Belatedly, he realizes Isaac might actually have toy cars somewhere in the playroom now across from the study, but the little boy twists in Tim’s grip so he's somehow shifted himself from under Tim’s arm to perched on his hip. Remnants of tears glisten in his eyes and he nods.

“Yeah,” Isaac says, “yeah.”

So, second-guessing himself the whole time, Tim treks down to the garage with the kid and sets him down after flicking the lights on. He's pretty sure Isaac’s been in the room before, by the way he heads straight for the pegboard of keys and bounces expectantly.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Tim warns, alarms now going off in his head. He's not completely certain but he's mostly confident in his belief that people Isaac’s size still require car seats. If there's one at the Manor, he has no idea where it is.

Isaac’s face twists into a disappointed pout, his lower lip trembling.

“Wanna pretend to drive?” Tim offers hurriedly. “You can sit in the big seat and everything.”

The pout instantly transforms into such a look of unreserved rapture that Tim wonders if he's letting Isaac do something that's usually off-limits in any and every form.

“Pick one,” Tim gestures to the room. “Any of ‘em.”

Isaac makes a beeline for a bright red Lamborghini that was one of Bruce’s preferred social night cars when Tim was thirteen. It looks dated and not quite vintage yet, but still sleek and shining. It's flashy and screams for attention and is the embodiment of everything Bruce tried to project his public image as at the time. That was before he'd somehow shifted to hapless dad with Tim, Cass, and Damian at his elbows instead of low-necklined 20-somethings in gala photos.

The last public photo Tim had been made aware of, by the office and by family, was Bruce in a suit with Isaac in one arm and a sippy cup in the other hand, cheerfully taking the toddler’s escape onto the stage in-stride at a building dedication ceremony.

Soft, to Bruce’s supreme frustration, was a word often paired with him in press descriptions now. Still, nobody could argue it wasn't, at the least, an effective distraction.

Tim unlocks the Lamborghini and makes sure the start features are disabled and the brake locked, and then lets Isaac have at it. The toddler sits on his knees on the leather seat and makes loud engine noises while he turns the wheel, and then gets distracted by jabbing radio buttons.

As Tim leans back in the passenger seat, letting Isaac explore and pretend to drive, he watches to make sure he doesn't press anything that could be dangerous and he relaxes a little. Isaac flashes him a crooked, toothy grin that, despite the lack of blood relationship, reminds him a lot of Jason.

For the first time in hours, Tim doesn't feel on the verge of being massively overwhelmed. He wishes he'd bothered to talk himself down a bit from reactive panic earlier, because it's actually kind of nice, just hanging out with a kid who thinks he's one of the most important people in the world.

He's always liked Isaac but there have always been other people around to deal with diapers and food and sleeping and tears and Tim has instinctively shied away from every close encounter to such things. Right now, sitting and watching the curly-headed kid grip his little brown hands around the leather-bound steering wheel, he faces the fact that he's already survived an entire morning of being It and it isn't as bad as he thought.

Isaac looks over and says, “You be a robot. I'm Robin Hood.”

“Okay,” Tim says, feeling dumb about pretending but also aware it is something he can do to keep Isaac happy. “Do I have a jet pack?”

He definitely has this under control.

An hour later and he has nothing under control.

Tim is in the kitchen with a bowl of macaroni and cheese he made from a box, a box Jason specifically packed because he claimed Isaac would eat it.

Isaac is on the floor sobbing that he will not eat that macaroni.

Or, that's about as much as Tim has deciphered.

The little boy drags himself off the floor and stumbles toward the fridge, still wailing. He tugs ineffectually at the door, too weepy to get a good grip.

“Isaac, you like macaroni!” Tim says, half-encouraging and half-begging, the plastic bowl still in his hand. He'd managed to keep him busy at the table with crayons and paper while he cooked the promised macaroni but it had taken one glance for Isaac to fling himself down and cry.

“Wantowlcheese,” Isaac sobs back.

“It is mac-n-cheese!” Tim insists, wiggling the bowl. “Just look!”

He can't remember if he ever gave nannies a hard time like this.

“WANTOWLCHEESE!” Isaac roars, slumping against the fridge and sniffling bitterly.

“I've either arrived too early or too late,” Dev says from the kitchen doorway.

“Thank God,” Tim exhales over the noise, when he turns and sees Dev with a drink tray. “Help me.”

“What'd you do to him, Timothy?” Dev asks impassively, holding the drink carrier out a little when Tim reaches desperately for the coffee. There's another tiny cup nestled next to his and he didn't even know they came in that size.

“Nothing!” Tim protests. “I made him lunch. He freaked out.”

“OWL. CHEESE. OWL. CHEESE.” Isaac punctuates the words with kicks to the fridge door.

“Mate,” Dev says, crouching down by Isaac. “I've brought you coffee.”

“Dev!” Tim exclaims. “Jason will kill me. Kill me.”

“Bloody hell, Timothy, calm down,” Dev says, turning with the cup in his hand. “Have a bit of trust, yeah?”

Tim nervously sips his coffee and taps his foot while watching, the abandoned macaroni bowl on the counter.

“Coffee?” Isaac asks hopefully, calming down to hiccups.

“Your own,” Dev says. “Come ‘round to the table, then, and sit with us. I've a tea and Uncle Tim’s got his own coffee.”

There is a brief moment when Isaac looks peaceful, like he might stand up and wipe his face off and listen. But then his tiny brows scrunch with betrayal and his mouth twists and he wails, even more loudly.

“NO. OWL CHEESE.”

Dev stands and sets the cup on the counter and takes his own tea. Tim is annoyed at how calm he looks.

“That's it? You're just giving up?”

“Where’s Alfie?” Dev asks, looking around.

“It's his day off,” Tim says sharply. “And if I bother him in any way, Jason won't just kill me, he’ll make it slow and painful.”

“He wants Alfie’s cooking,” Dev says, pointing vaguely in Isaac’s direction with his elbow while he sips his tea.

“Owl cheese,” Tim echoes, putting a hand over his eyes. “I'm an idiot.”

“Jay feeds him well enough,” Dev says, glancing at the box still sitting sideways on the counter. “But the tyke’s had everything from scratch here. Did you bother explaining anything?”

“He's three,” Tim says, looking at the weeping boy.

“Oh,” Dev says, turning and hunting the cabinets for something. “So he’s not grown his brain yet. That comes a bit later, right.”

“I don't know what I'm doing!” Tim says, exasperated. “It didn't say I had to explain everything!”

Dev’s found a pepper shaker in the cabinet and he takes the macaroni and cheese and sits on the floor with it.

“Look, mate,” Dev says to Isaac, who flops over and glares at him. “Owl’s out for the day. He's on a trip. We've got to manage by ourselves but I've found the specks he puts on the other kind.”

“How do you know all this,” Tim says flatly. “Am I just, like, super detached?”

Isaac sits up to watch Dev twist the grinder. Flakes of pepper drift down onto the boxed macaroni, black against neon orange.

“I'm about,” Dev says. “And with Alfie when I'm not with you, when I'm not suturing someone or setting bones.” He hands Isaac the bowl and Isaac sits with his little legs splayed out to the sides and begins eating.

“Yeah,” Tim says with a note of irritation, “but when do you spend time with kids? Like how do you just know?”

Dev reaches up to the counter for his tea while Isaac hums happily and spoons noodles into his mouth.

“I've pediatric patients,” Dev says. “Not a lot, but now and then. And Rani’s kids. And I was ten when Kam was born; I watched her when my mum was busy. Leena wouldn't.”

Only halfway through the bowl, Isaac’s head dips forward and then jerks upward. The second time it happens, Dev’s hand flies out and catches Isaac’s face right before it lands in the macaroni.

“Did he nap?” Dev asks, sounding worried. “He's not fevered.”

“Jay’s notes said ten in the morning, but when I asked, Isaac said he wasn't tired,” Tim says, fully unprepared for the incredulous look Dev swings around to give him.

“You bloody asked him,” Dev says.

“I hate it when people are always telling me to sleep!” Tim protests. “He said he wasn't tired!”

“Is there a bed made up?” Dev asks, shifting around and sliding the bowl out of the way with his foot. He lifts the slumped tiny body off the floor and hands him over to Tim. “I'm telling Jason to start dropping him off at your flat once a week.”

Tim lets Isaac’s heavy head drop against his shoulder and the boy snuggles drowsily into him.

“I'm the worst uncle,” Tim sighs, leaving the kitchen.

There's a small bed in the room across from the study, surrounded by a mix of vintage and newer toys. Tim lowers Isaac carefully and the toddler startles and blinks.

“Shh,” Tim attempts.

“Uncle Robot,” Isaac mumbles, turning over. He's asleep again.

Tim returns to the kitchen to find Dev rummaging through the fridge. The tiny coffee cup is sitting on a shelf next to a stack of yogurts.

“Coffee?” Tim asks.

“Steamed milk with caramel flavoring,” Dev says. “Rani’s kids order it. There's lasagna. Have you eaten?”

“No,” Tim says, leaning against the counter. “I'm honestly so bad at this, Dev. It's messed up. Give me a kid that’s hurt or been kidnapped and I know exactly what to do. But give me a few hours with my own nephew and I'm shit.”

The microwave buzzes faintly as it heats up the container Dev threw onto the rotating plate.

“You've not done as poorly as you think,” Dev says. “Stop expecting yourself to be bloody perfect the moment you give it a go. You're not his da.”

Tim shrugs. “That's true. I guess it hasn't been that bad.”

“He would've shouted about Alfie’s macaroni even if Jason had been here,” Dev says confidently. “You'll just have to stop panicking and treating him like a machine with an sequence of buttons to push. Talk to him.”

Tim feels the sting of this, an analogy similar to the same one he mentally leveled at Damian early, and he swallows.

“Wanna get some gaming in?” he asks, when Dev pulls the lasagna out and pokes it experimentally with a fork.

“Of course I sodding do,” Dev says. “I've been in withdrawal.”

And for an hour, Tim trades off eating and managing the controller of a long-neglected RPG in an alien landscape. They play until a small, sleepy voice from behind them asks, “Where's my coffee?”

“I've saved it for you, mate,” Dev says, pausing the game.

“Can you get it?” Tim asks, glancing at the screen. “I just had an idea but I have to break into Cass’ room.”

If the idea of him picking the lock to his sister’s rarely used bedroom might have once surprised Dev, it doesn't now, and the older man takes it easily in stride. He stands and holds a hand out to Isaac.

“Come on, then, you plonker. Let’s get your coffee.”

Tim sprints up the stairs and tries the knob before hunting around for a key. There's one under the decorative vase on a pillar a few feet down the hall. Cass, in the past few years, has treated the room as a sort of holding place for stuff she's fond of or considers useful but doesn't want to try to cram into the apartment she shares with Steph. The one time Bruce suggested cleaning out the room, Alfred had given him a sharp scowl and reminded him when only Tim was in earshot, that at least she was now caring to save things instead of treating everything as disposable or free of emotional meaning.

The room, for all her saving, is still fairly neat and not anywhere close to hoarding. Under the thin TV on one wall, there is an old, dusty Wii U system and Tim texts her before unplugging it and blowing it off.

Downstairs, he hooks it up to the TV. He can hear Isaac giggling and Dev talking in that over-serious way he uses when he's being ridiculous.

Tim turns on the Wii U just to make sure it will work and then heads to the kitchen. He finds Isaac sitting with both of his hands around the paper cup, concentrating on balancing it when he takes a drink. Dev has made another cup of tea and is building a tower out of sugar cubes. When it gets five or six blocks high, Isaac puts his cup down and knocks it over, then roars with laughter.

“I got it set up,” Tim says, sitting down with them. Isaac promptly abandons his destructive efforts to climb onto Tim’s lap. “Want to play a game?”

“Yeah!” Isaac says. “Chess?”

“You are not a normal three year old,” Dev says evenly, sipping his tea. “I'll blame this one on Wayne.”

“I bet he makes him follow the rules, too,” Tim says, ruffling Isaac’s curls. They bounce back into place.

“Pawn hops forward,” Isaac says. “One hop.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna go play video games, Isaac,” Tim says, shaking the cup a little to confirm that it's empty. “I like chess but you need to develop some controller skills.”

“I don’t like chess,” Dev says, “despite your da’s repeated attempts to prove to me otherwise.”

“That's because you only ever play with Bruce,” Tim retorts, standing and lifting Isaac with him. “It's like playing a brick wall. A really smart brick wall, but his no-talking rule makes it pretty dry. We should play sometime.”

“Bishop goes sideways!” Isaac comments cheerfully.

“No,” Dev says firmly. “You and Steph already bloody tried this with word game apps and I know my weaknesses. I'll stick to games with proper button-mashing.”

They walk into the den together and Tim sets Isaac down on the couch, where the kid does a headstand on the cushions.

“Uncle Tim!” he cries. “Watch!”

He does something that might be an attempt at a flip, but looks more like falling sideways. Tim waits a moment to see if Isaac will express disappointment with the result, but he tumbles upright looking pretty pleased with himself.

“Wow,” Tim says.

“Brilliant,” Dev says. “You ought to teach me sometime. And convincing enthusiasm, Tim.”

“Shut up,” Tim mutters, getting the Gamepad. “You think Captain Toad is okay?”

Isaac bounces on the couch and reaches out with both arms. His face is split in a massive, excited grin and Tim kicks himself for not thinking of this months ago.

“That one’s lovely,” Dev agrees, leaning back on the couch and stretching out his legs.

Tim sits on the other side of Isaac and leans over, rushing through the start menu prompts before Isaac’s fingers can hit the screen.

“Okay, now you can do it,” Tim says once the level is started. “Move with this.”

Isaac sticks his tongue out one corner of his mouth while he concentrates, moving the avatar on screen in tiny, jerky motions as he manipulates the joystick.

“Oh, you got a coin, well done,” Dev says, when Isaac’s managed to move his figure around a little.

“Yeah,” Isaac agrees, his voice full of a smile.

“Walk this way,” Tim says, pointing. He waits while Isaac figures out how to turn around. “Yep. Go right for that bridge.”

They sit for close to half an hour while Isaac plays, his face tipping closer and closer to the screen until Tim has to remind him to sit back. He gets through two levels before Tim notices the time.

“You hungry?” he asks.

“No,” Isaac says.

“It's snack time,” Tim says, glancing over Isaac’s head for Dev’s support. Dev shrugs.

“No,” Isaac says.

“I think we need to stop,” Tim says reluctantly, braced for explosion. “You need to eat something. You didn't even finish lunch.”

“No,” Isaac whines, clutching the Gamepad.

“Two minutes?” Dev suggests.

“I’ll set a timer on my phone,” Tim says. “It beeps and we’re done.” He readies himself for this to backfire, already envisioning himself and Dev having to literally pry Isaac away from the game amid screaming.

“Okay,” Isaac sighs, dramatically.

The phone beeps in a sing-song tone two minutes later and Isaac slowly and, with much moaning, surrenders the Gamepad.

Dev shuts off the system while Tim takes Isaac to the bathroom, despite Isaac complaining he doesn't need to go, and he waits just outside when Isaac pushes against his legs and says, “By myself.”

He has to go in and roll toilet paper back up and straighten out Isaac’s crooked pants, but they eventually end up in the kitchen again with peanut butter crackers and apple slices. By Jason’s estimation, there's only an hour and a half left before he comes to pick Isaac up and Tim is faintly surprised that the time is already gone. It feels like it's been both the longest and shortest day he's had in a while.

Tim brews another cup of coffee and ducks out to find Dev sleeping on the couch. He goes back to the kitchen to hear Isaac talking to his crackers, just as Damian comes back in through the front door with an animal carrier.

“If it's rabid, Isaac’s still here,” Tim warns, leaning his head out into the hallway.

“It is not rabid,” Damian says, sounding only mildly annoyed. He brushes past Tim and sets the cage on the kitchen floor. He opens the door and a kitten crawls out into his outstretched hand.

Isaac forgets completely about his half-eaten snack and tries to crane his neck and stand on tiptoes to see the mewling creature while Tim wipes his hands off.

“Whose cat?” Tim asks, feeling dumb for asking.

“A foster kitten,” Damian says. “I will only have him for a few weeks. The mother wouldn't feed him.”

“Oh,” Tim says, lifting Isaac to see.

“I thought Isaac would appreciate him,” Damian says, holding the kitten out a little without giving it up completely. Isaac reaches out tentatively, his eyes wide, and pulls his fingers back with a tiny yelp of surprise when the kitten licks him.

“Rough,” he says, startled, and looking to Damian’s face for a reaction.

“The tongue is slightly abrasive,” Damian says, letting the kitten gnaw and suck on his own fingers. Isaac reaches out to try again and this time, giggles. Tim feels the little boy press more tightly against his side in giddiness, and his free hand clenches and unclenches as if trying to dispel his desire to squeeze the cat.

The kitten mewls at Isaac’s knuckles and Tim, by way of angling himself so Isaac can be closer to the cat, finds himself standing closer to Damian than he usually does. They've long since moved past their days of outright antagonism but they've never exactly been close, and even Damian’s closer relationships tend to have moments where physical contact or nearness flits in and out by his mood. Most of the time, his youngest brother carefully keeps a diameter of personal space Steph teasingly refers to as “Damian’s Sacred Bubble.”

Isaac is leaning his head over the kitten, almost touching Damian’s cheek with his own forehead, and Damian does not step back or move away. He pets the kitten’s back with a thumb.

“I do not think I joke well over the phone,” Damian says quietly, to Tim and not to Isaac. Isaac is meowing back at the kitten in a little voice that might be his attempt at a whisper.

“What?” Tim asks.

“Or perhaps I underestimated Jason’s level of stress and it was not good timing,” Damian continues, as if Tim hadn't spoken.

Above Isaac’s head, for a brief second, their eyes meet and Tim has a flash of understanding.

“The wooden katanas,” he says.

“I am not inept. I have learned what is appropriate for small children,” Damian says, almost defensively.

“Jay was really stressed,” Tim says. “And I was a jerk. At least you were just trying to be funny.”

“Tt,” Damian says, his gaze on the cat.

“You could have stuck around and hung out with us,” Tim says, wondering now if he’d also somehow driven Damian away on top of it. He really needs to take some time off work and push himself. It's been awhile since he's really been very far from his, albeit often physically dangerous, comfort zone.

“I was angry,” Damian says simply, holding out an arm. Tim shifts Isaac up and slides him over, so Damian is left with a nephew crooked in one elbow and a kitten on his other wrist.

“Angry is okay,” Isaac says seriously, still enthralled by the kitten. “Biting is not.”

That gets a sudden flash of a smile out of Damian and Tim laughs and pats Isaac’s shoulder.

“I was slightly angry,” Damian amends. “I was also hurt.”

“Bandaid?” Isaac asks suddenly, his attention torn from the kitten as he leans back in Damian’s arm to look his uncle over.

“No,” Damian says quietly, without humor. Tim, however, is amused but only slightly. “A different type of hurt. I think I am doing better now. Is Alfred still sleeping?”

“He's here?” Tim asks, surprised.

“Owl?” Isaac echoes hopefully.

“He often sleeps on his day off, but rarely past dinner,” Damian says. “If you have not seen him, he is likely still asleep or reading.”

“Owl is busy,” Tim tells Isaac. “Tomorrow you can see him.” Despite Jason’s threats, Tim seriously doubts Alfred would be much bothered by seeing Isaac if he was awake-- but Tim doesn't want to risk waking him if he isn't up on his own.

“D,” Tim says, finally petting the kitten for himself. Isaac returns to patting the kitten very gently on the head. “Do you want to P-A-T-R-O-L tonight?”

“Ice cream,” Isaac says, as if he understood a message. “Yes.”

“No,” Tim says with a grin. “But maybe I can find you a cookie.”

“Yes,” Damian says simply. “Do you want me to entertain Isaac?”

“As long as it's not with katanas,” Tim says, yawning. “Yeah. I have no idea how Jason does this all day.”

“That was a joke,” Damian says flatly, his mouth slanted downward in that way Tim now recognizes as mild humor. “We will build with blocks. It is conducive to motor skill development.”

“Uncle Dev built blocks. I ate some,” Isaac says, struggling to get down. Damian lowers him to the tiled floor.

“Sugar cubes,” Tim clarifies. “I didn't know he fed them to you.”

“Kiran employs methods of forming bonds that are not entirely satisfactory,” Damian says. “But they are effective.”

“Yeah,” Tim says, wondering if sugar cubes are the sort of thing that rate a mention to Jason.

“Cookie?” Isaac reminds him.

Cookies and sugar cubes seem, upon consideration, the sort of thing that can be overlooked.

Isaac leads the way to the playroom with a cookie in one hand, Damian trailing behind him slow and tall with the kitten still curled against one shoulder.

And in the sudden absence of responsibility, even briefly, Tim finds himself unable to decide what to do. He checks his phone and, almost as if by magic or summoning, it rings.

It's Jason.

“Please tell me my kid is alive,” Jason says. “We got out early and I am fricking done with this entire day.”

“Alive and pretty happy,” Tim says, relieved that he can say it honestly. “He's playing.”

“I'm bringing food. Don't argue. Is Damian there?”

“Yep,” Tim says. “He was joking about the swords, by the way.”

“Shit,” Jason says, and Tim can hear a palm pound against steering wheel. “He's probably pissed.”

“No, I think it's okay,” Tim says, less sure but enough to attempt to reassure Jason. “Dev’s here, too. And Al, but he might be asleep. I can pitch in.”

“Don't worry about it,” Jason says. “Is Isaac tired?”

“Um,” Tim says, slowly, hedging. “He kind of, uh, took a late nap.”

“That's fine,” Jason says, though the overall tone of his handwritten instructions had seemed to indicate otherwise. “I'm grabbing Chinese. Text me if you want anything besides the usual. Tell Isaac I'm on my way.”

The line goes dead without a goodbye and Tim wanders down the hall. He joins Damian on the floor among a massive supply of blocks. Isaac is alternating between stacking them for a bridge and checking on the kitten still in Damian’s lap.

“Your dad’s on his way,” Tim says.

“I miss him,” Isaac says forlornly. “I don't want to leave. I like this cat.”

“I think you're staying for dinner,” Tim says, by way of solace. He adds two green blocks to the bridge scaffolding.

“Yes!” Isaac cheers, startling the sleepy kitten.

Tim stretches out on the floor by the bridge.

“Wake me up before Jason comes into the room,” he warns Damian. “Or before you leave. None of that technicality sh--crap.”

“Alright,” Damian says, his voice startlingly like Bruce’s when he's humoring someone. “Hold still. I am going to build over your legs to demonstrate support systems. Isaac, watch me.”

“I love today,” Isaac says. “I drove Grandpa Bee’s car.”

“Please let me retreat before you tell Jason this,” Damian says to Tim, who is already half-dozing.

“It was--” Tim begins to say hurriedly, but he opens his eyes to see Isaac bouncing slightly on his knees as he adds a blue triangle block to the tower by Tim’s ankle. His little face is full of serious focus. “Okay. Yeah. Sure thing, Damian. It was the best, wasn't it, Isaac?”

Isaac sets a block down and nods.

“We went so fast.”

Tim is far more asleep than he intended to be when Damian nudges his hip, hard, and his eyes fly open and the towers around his feet scatter when he starts.

The toddler doesn't even react because he's already scrambling toward the door and the announcing yell, “Where the frick is everyone? I'm here!”

“Daddy!” Isaac shrieks, tearing out the door.

Tim and Damian follow, Tim still rubbing sleep from his eyes. Isaac is already in Jason’s arms, clinging tightly.

“Have a good day, kid?” Jason asks.

“Yes,” Isaac says fiercely. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Jason says, bumping his forehead against Isaac’s. “Tell your slowpoke uncles to come eat before it gets cold.”

“Come eat!” Isaac orders over his little shoulder.

Tim isn't especially good at following orders, but this one he has no trouble with at all.

#cor et cerebrum series #tim drake #isaac wayne #jason todd #damian wayne #kiran devabhaktuni #ficblogging #batman #batfam #batfic

[demi-angel-novel]

Chapter 7:  Puberty times 2

     You know what sucks right now, having wings.  Now before you say it you try having two new appendages burst out of your shoulders and you tell me how perfectly you walk, Because I fell a total of 50 times!-trying to get back to the dannare school.  Just, just why.  But, on with the story.

“There we go, all registered.  We are happy to have you Thomas and if you have any more questions about this place please feel free to ask me, Ms. Williams, or Ariana here.  Oh and also how is that cane treating you?”  Due to my numerous falls, Achilles gifted me one of his spare canes much to the amusement of Ariana who I know without a shadow of a doubt will make fun of me non stop.  I don’t know if I should see this as a challenge or one of the most agonizing things to happen to me recently.

“Speaking of which, Ariana, would you mind showing Thomas around.  I’m sure this must be awfully confusing for him.”  

“No problem Achilles, come on old man.  I’d like to finish up before your body gives out”

“If I could hit you without face planting I so would right now.”

“But, you can’t so follow me old stormy”  At her words I felt a tingle within my wings as I smelt and heard the slight hum of electricity course through them seemingly in agitation. 

“First stop is the library”  She led me through the large rotunda to two large wooden doors, each etched with images and writings.  In the middle of the split was the opening of a book, each of its pages split perfectly down the middle as from the book rays of light radiated around the book like a crown of light as below the spine of the book was etched in a banner which was written in seemingly Hebrew as I looked upon it I couldn’t read a syllable of it until I felt my brain churn into over drive automatically translating the words as I nearly had to grip my skill from the speed as I read what it said. “knowledge is power that shall last for generations”  When we pushed upen the doors the library was exposed in all its glory and majesty.

The room was so massive and large, but also held an age which seemed impossible, as it seemed to stretch on farther than the eye could see, changing and growing as it seemed through the time of humanity itself.  The shelves began as stone, later to wood, and later a metal of nothing I have ever seen in my life.  Even the books within them seemed to stretch on through the history of man as I am ninety percent sure this has every book ever recorded by man and much more as it had stone, clay slabs which later turned to papyrus and pages and books made of leaves and wood, then finally parchment and paper.  But as it continued I saw tablets and if I'm not going insane holograms.

When I saw everything I breathlessly said.  "I'm in heaven" to which Ariana snickered and whisper oh my goodness he’s a bookworm.

"I never took you for the person who loved to read?!" She laughed incredulously

"Of course I do!  Reading is amazing it is one of the best skills I ever learned!  But I've never seen this many books before, there has to be millions of them here"  From behind us a striking and stilled voice spoke behind me as it carried a slight southern accent.

"Actually there are precisely 100 trillion and 7 billion books and documents and rising"  At the sudden voice behind me my wings seemed to try to have its  feathers stand on its ends as it seemed Ariana’s were no different as they delivered a flash of fire in surprise as we both turned to the mysterious person behind us.

     We were both met with a girl with raven black hair with a number of dark blue tinted spiked bangs resting on her forehead as they curled around her deep tan skin.  Her eyes were a radiant emerald green as they lay behind a pair of rectangular thick-framed glasses resting on her nose.  She appeared to be wearing a handmade denim trench coat with a black t-shirt which she seemed to be holding a stack of books to her chest as she had on a pair of faded blue jeans which I call grandma pants due to them going over her waist. As on her feet, she wore sharp toed black farm boots.  As I continued to look I began to see two pitch black wings jetting out of her back.  For some reason on the wings, they had a weird design, on the top of her wings appeared to be dark green vines while on the bottom of her wings she had dark blue swirls which reminded me of when water swirled down a drain.  Overall she looked nerdy, and for some reason, all of the instincts of my body were saying in unison to run from her as it felt like I was looking at death, which unfortunately caused my body to twitch as I felt electricity surge throughout me wildly.

Ariana’s face morphed from surprise to relief.  “Oh it’s just you Alley, how are ya?”

“I am doing fine, thank you, Ariana.  Now, who might you be?  I have never seen you around the sanctum before?”  She stepped towards me as her eyes drifted to every part of m body analyzing and examining me piece by piece as if she was thinking of a million ways to kill me then hide a body, which made me really unnerved/

“Uh...my name is, Thomas.  Ariana brought me here just now, and it's nice to meet you Alley?”  Each word I said was measured and cautious as I outstretched my hand.  After a few minutes of agonizing silence, she returned the gesture, reeling back her hand as quickly as she shook it.

“My name is Diana, Alleycat is my surname.  Until I say so otherwise please address me as Diana.”  Her tone seemed to be a mix of meekness and ferocity as I was left wondering who the heck has that as a last name!  I guess my confusion was apparent as she sighed out in annoyance.

“Alleycat?”

“Just don’t question it!”  she blurted out quickly with annoyance as it seems this was a common reaction.

“Yes, Ma’am!”  I said instantly much to the delight of Ariana who instantly began laughing her butt off.  “So Diana, do you go to the Library often or are you a book nerd like me?”  At my words, she zoomed towards me with a look of excitement and immense pride.

“Yes I am!”

“Yes! there are more of us!”  We both got really giddy as we vomited our love and admiration for books at a seemingly endless pace as a wave of information and all around geekiness filled the library to the brim until I began to grow curious about her.

“Hey who is your angelic parent anyway?”  Immediately after asking this her demeanor changed quicker than a flash as she instantly went back into her shy persona.

“It’s Azrael”

“Awesome, I have no idea who the frick that is”

“He is the angel of death”

“That explains so much actually”  She looked at me with surprise and disbelief as she continued

“How so?”

“Welllll, for the whole time I was around you I felt the presence of death at every second”

“Finally someone notices!  Thank you for that.  Now then who is your parent?”

“Ramiel why?”

“I asked due to my hair standing on end even though I fell no fear from you whatsoever.  Your body is too small to wield a good amount of strength, and your eyes despite resembling storms show no sign of a fighter and-”

“Okay okay, let's just stop analyzing me!”

“Why you must always analyze each and every opponent whether weak or strong, in this case, you are the first which says you are of no threat”

“What did I just say!”

“Still though Alley it’s still surprising to hear that you’re a child of Azrael, you seem more like a child of Uriel”

“Why does everyone say that?!  I am a deathly weapon!”

“We know, it’s just that you spend most of your time in the library”

“But why wouldn’t you this is the best part of the sanctum!!”

“Amen sister!!”  Before the both of us could continue I felt what was left of my shirt being dragged by a certain blacksmith as it was clear she wanted to avoid me and Diana from talking again.

“See you later Alley I have to show this nerd around some more!”

“Oh, it’s nerd now huh?”

“Don’t complain, you said it yourself”

“Yes I did, and I take pride in it!!”  Ariana playfully rolled her eyes 

“Alright, then Mr. Pride lets keep this tour going”  And true to her word she continued the tour literally dragging me to every location.  I don't know how to feel about that.  The tour went from showing off different classrooms to storage, and beyond, but the place that had Ariana the most excited was the technology/forgery room.  It looked like a mixture of a volcano and a really high tech futuristic lab, ranging from hammers and anvils to laser beans and plasma cutters and inventions so amazing I can't even describe them.  The room was amazing to look at, as were the other rooms, each room was personally customized and stylized each providing their own masterpieces in their own right.  And as I looked at Ariana she looked at home as she seemed to glow with pride and happiness.  That I couldn’t help but get caught up in it as well as I began smiling as well.  At that point, I was glad Ariana had her eyes closed because I was probably staring at her with a dumb look on my face.

“now then, this is my domain!  It is the forgery, technology, or blacksmith room!  It’s my favorite classroom as well as my sorta workshop, besides my room that is.  In this place we create, innovate, fix, and change weapons and inventions. It’s honestly a sight to see when everyone’s here.  Hey don’t go all quiet on me now say something”

“Heh, arent you supposed to be the one telling me stuff gear head?  But honestly its amazing, i’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Good, I’m happy it is, now then I wanted to ask you something right quick”

“Che cos'è?”

“I’m gonna assume that what is it, I wanted to ask you what weapon do ya want?”  My face must have told the whole story as s?  It’s he began to chuckle.  “what’s with that face?  Pffft what you thought you’d be here without learning to fight.  This place is here to teach ya how to protect and keep yourself safe.  Would be useless if we sent you into the real world without any experience.  So what is it?"

"Uh, can you show me what you have?"

"Ok I'm only showin, ya though.  For what's next it'll have to be a surprise"

"Oooookay?"

"Oh calm down it's good!  Follow me stormy"  She led me to a room in the back of  the room as it held a lest of every weapon imaginable in mankinds history as it wrapped around the entire room housing thousands of weapons and variations.  As I walked into it she motioned for me to choose as I walked up to each image as I held my hand out towards each feeling nothing each time.  As I kept moving it repeated and repeated until my hand landed on a pistol.  When my fingers touched my eyes windened as they saw images crack to life as I saw a row of battlefields, enemies and so much more.  So many images rushed through my head leaving me frozen until ariana knocked my hand away as her face showed a mix of overwhelming excitement and worry.

"Hey, Ariana"  As soon as I said her name she was taken aback which caused me to smirk as I continued.  "I found it"

"A pistol huh?"

"Yep!"  Before I knew it Arian was all over me measuring parts of my body giving me a blush as she measured mainly my hands and waist as this kept continuing her face grew and even brighter and brighter smile as her wings moved and jingled with happiness as when she was done you would think her eyes were stars by how bright and excited they were.

"eeeek I'm gonna make you the best pistol ever!  I cant wait to begin, oh I can start today!  ooooooo I can't wait!"  As we kept walking out of the room she continued speaking rapidly ganing more and more speed with each sentence then paragraph.  It was at this point when I saw all of her passion for building or crafting as I couldn't even say anything except look at her in amazement.

"OH, I'm such an idiot!  I have to show you your room too!  Come on follow me Thomas we have to hurry!"  At her words she bolted out of the door as I followed behind her thinking this is the second time today I am running for my life, yeah that seems about right.  After and an ungodly amount of running we finally made our way to my room Alpha 7.

"Whew, we finally made it.  Thanks for showing me around, and for building me a weapon, thanks again Ariana"

"de nada, but!  Don't thank me yet, I still have to show you to gun.  After that you can thank me all you want!"

"Pffft alright then gear head"

"Awww, I liked hearing you actually say my name"

"Well too bad tesoro!  Anyway buenna notte"

"Buenas noches"

    After we each said good night I slipped my card into the holder as I entered the door, which is reaaaaly long as it seemed to be the size of a double door as it slid to the side as my wings went through it easily with no feather being harmed.   The room around me was colored in pure white walls with golden lining.  To my left was a red and gold door etched with the images of a phoenix and a dragon soaring from a blazing fire towards the bottom of the door as peppered around the door seemed to be pictures of steaks for some weird reason.  Beneath the flames of the door the floor seemed to be made of red carpet as it continued to stretch in every direction before stopping dead in its tracks at a golden brick floor.  Above the golden bricks was a bright gold yellow door reflecting the light as it touched upon the metalic surface.  The door was designed in rays of light exploding in every direction, like a sun rising over the horizon as they began at the bottom of the door.  As soon as I placed a single foot in the doorway, a previously white door changed before my eyes.  The door was decorated in black and blue colors with silver tendrils of lightning arcing across its surface as in the right top and the bottom left corners of the door were decorated in spiralling clouds as if I was looking at an old painting, as in the dead middle of the door was a bird of prey with its wings outstretched. in both directions.  Beneath the door the floor transformed into silver tiles finishing the cascade, as each room was split into three pieces, each divided by the floor.

“Woah” I whispered in disbelief.  As I walked forward I noticed two beanbags, one orange, the other yellow as they each looked towards a long floating tv that hung above a game console.  What interested me most of all were the occupants of the chairs as one of them turned to face me.  

“Oh!  You’re our new roommate, right?  Heya!”  He excitedly paused the game he playing as he made his way towards me.  He had pale skin and warm firey red eyes, with both enhanced the orange freckles which dotted around the bridge of his nose and beyond.  As if someone got a Cheeto and painting across his face.  His face looked elfish in appearance as he had orange short hair that was styled with a cowlick around his forehead.  For one reason or another, he had on camouflage everything and I mean everything, he had on camouflage shirt, pants, and even socks and shoes.  If you were to take him outside you would lose him instantly.  The main thing that caught my attention was his wings.  They were red and gold and resembled a phoenix.

"Sup my names CJ what's yours?"  As he spoke he was extremely excited as an Irish accent broke to the surface as he held out his hand waiting for me to shake it.

"Ciao, I'm Thomas, who's that over there?"

"Oh that's Blake-speaking of which BLAKE!  Are ya going to say something?"  The only response he received was a wave before blake restarted the game.  From that wave I noticed a few features of his body, he appeared to have straight golden yellow hair with gold and yellow hair as he seemed to produce his own area of light.

"Hey!  Don't unpause it without me!  Uhhh, sorry 'bout that, Blake is slow to open up to people"  he said sheepishly rubbing the back of his head

"Don't worry about it" I shrugged  "If Goldenlocks doesn't want to talk I won't make him."  CJ smirked as he had to hold his mouth trying not to laugh

"Goldenlocks pffffft,  I'm definitely gonna have to use that!"  After saying this goldenlocks himself turned towards CJ and looked at him with platinum eyes as they showed all of the annoyance giving the message of don't you dare.  which caused CJ to finally chuckle.

"Don't worry Blake I won't, not sure about him though.  Oh!  Thomas were you the one that was dragged around like a rag doll by that spirit earlier?!"

"Yep!  I got turned into a human lightning rod, but I at least got my wings out of it so I'm fine with it.

"Cool!  Oh yeah, do you know your parents?  The angel one I mean!"

"Yeah, it's ramiel"

"Awwwww Blake the streak is broken!!"

"What the heck, what streak"

"oops sorry about that, me and Blake don't know our angelic parents,...so we made a streak about the roommates who didn't either!  The most we know is that mine was a fire angel and Golden-"  Blake threw a pen at CJ hitting him on the head which he rubbed from the pain.

"OW!  Blake's was a light angel.  Ow, that hurt, are you in a bad mood or something today?"  he questioned with obvious fake tears.

"I warned you didn't I"  Blake's voice was monotone with a hint of playfulness or was that annoyance,  I couldn't tell.

"But, that aside you're the son of an archangel that's really cool!'  he smiled giving me two thumbs up as there was now a red bump in the middle of his head.

I yawned into my hand suddenly as all of the experiences from today weighed heavily, falling on me all at once.  "Im going to sleep see ya both tomorrow, ciao"  with that I entered my room, crashing instantly atop my bed.

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