thoughtformed | [Private texts.]

I—

[Jason's talking, and then Tim's talking again through some incoherent filter. he catches parts of it, enough to make out the basics, but the more he struggles the more passing out sounds awfully good right now.

he really didn't want to impersonate anyone. there are cases that the truth needed to be walked around, twisted and played with. the truth became words and words were a game, woven in ways that would later become favorable.

but this was his friend.]

Can ... can we not make anything explode right now? ...

Explosions later is sounding much, much better.

[What Tim says surprises him. Not Dick? Then it's Kate, perhaps, or that alien ... but he decides not to leave it up to chance. Jason pulls off his mask and listens carefully, mouthpiece moved away from his face so that the sound doesn't vibrate through.

Loki.

He fucking brought Loki.

Even better, Loki doesn't sound that good.

His lips twist downward in irritation. There aren't many people Jason would go out of his way to save when he gets like this, when he's honest with himself, but Scarlet was one of them. He wants to shove aside any feelings of giving a damn about Loki to prove Tim wrong, but he can't. Though he can't kick the feeling that Tim only brought him along to use him, either.

Jason stands up, setting down his mask and his gun and his detonation device all at once, slipping out from a busy, cluttered upper corner of the building. He swings down easily moments later. The thing about Jason's movement is that he's always slightly more lumbering than Dick, but that doesn't make him an adequate acrobat. When he lands, he heads over to Loki, eyes slit as he takes a good look at him.]

Is this a pawn? Your way of saving the day? Throwing him in here so I wouldn't push a button?

[His voice is low and angry because, at this point, the last thing he expects is for Tim to genuinely ask Loki for help.]

[what was the plan? find Jason, the rest comes after that. convince him not to blow things up! yes, quite a good plan. well, it was a good plan until the energy expended for the spell hit him and he ended up in woozyville, population Loki. he recognizes someone coming toward him and takes a few instinctive steps back. he was used to running, even if he was in no state to do it.

but he halfway recognizes who's in front of him.]

Hi, Jason. ... I came to tell you that I—

I would rather—

[and that's about it. his vision blurs, and the next time he forces himself to focus it's too much.]

...I...

[with the first part of the plan fulfilled, he either unintentionally or intentionally puts the second part into motion and subsequently falls back onto the floor and loses consciousness.]

[Hypothetically, falling would take place if Jason didn't reach forward quickly to grab the front of Loki's clothing and catch him. His weight always surprises him, but he doesn't let go of him, drawing him closer and eventually swinging him over his shoulder. Only a small part of him extends over onto his back, because Jason doesn't want to be practically dangling him and he's not interested in cradling Loki right now.

He glances toward Tim, face still bunched up and angry.]

Have fun taking down all those explosives. Hope I didn't set a timer.

[He didn't, but the explosives were there—they'd been there for a while. This game was one he devised his first time through the city, and it was found by him the second time and filed away for this third time around. The explosives were lacking a few key components, but they weren't hard to rig up the moment he decided he wanted to have his game.

He starts moving toward the exit, not letting his mind wander.]

[The prolonged silence, the lack of audible Loki, had been enough to make Tim swing back around, so he's close enough to witness Jason scooping up Loki. For a moment, he's about to ask what Jason did, but Jason's body language doesn't need Cass to read it. Loki knocked himself out. Spent too much energy? He hadn't seemed terribly practiced with the portals, and Tim hadn't spared time to think through the implications.

For a moment, he wonders: did Loki do this on purpose? He knows it's the kind of game he himself is capable of playing -- if you can't fake sincerity, your best bet is not faking it -- but at the moment that doesn't really matter. Game on hold, Jason on his way out -- he'll keep Loki safe -- and a few answers about Jason's state of mind answered, too.

He'd better get to those explosives.]

[The place he takes Loki isn't his apartment.

He considers it, briefly, but since he doesn't know his roommate well and isn't interested in changing that beyond a few shared words, he decides on a familiar place: the warehouse where they first chatted, only it looks more like a safehouse now, with Jason's own computer, small built in kitchen, and decent sized beds. There are two of them, because for some reason, he was prepared. If it wasn't Loki, it'd be someone else. That's the way these things work.

The room itself is dimly lit and there's the smell of ... pizza. Yes, that's definitely pizza, freshly delivered around the time Jason guessed Loki would be waking up. He sets a couple bacon covered pieces next to Loki's bed on a nightstand with a cup of orange juice. Whatever happened to him, Jason can tell that some degree of it is exhaustion.

As it is, Jason isn't far from Loki's bed, but he is reading, not really being the type to stare down someone worried while he sleeps. He did that enough as a kid—feeding his mother stolen scraps of food and cans of cold soup while she struggled to take it down. And though he gives a shit about Loki, he isn't his mother. No one will ever be.

Right now, he has a book in his hand, but the cover is folded over so Loki can't see what he's reading.]

[sorcery acts on its bearer in many ways, exhaustion of the body is one of them, exhaustion of the mind the other. he had experimented a little with the portals, never enough to make him feel anything but just short of breath, but he hardly prepared himself for the ton of bricks waiting above his head that he unknowingly cut the rope to. sorcery was never his thing, and his Other-Self had ridiculed him for it. the spell that he took up was something that he needed, that he could use, that he decided he could save people with. it took a toll on his mind, lowering his defenses and allowing an unusual variety of nightmares to creepy through. in his wake he tossed a bit beneath the covers, but only briefly before his eyes snapped open and he gasped.

and there was bacon, he could smell it.

first, the disorientation. it took a moment for everything to sink in. the few moments before he was wiped were awkward and blurry, each time he remembered them they were different. it hurt to think about. where was he? where ever he was, he was already reaching for the pizza to chow down. the first bite leaves him ravaging, and the second one only in existence for a few moments before it's devoured. then they're both gone, and the orange juice disappears in one gulp.

he glances around briefly, his brows quirk a bit at what Jason's doing, and then he opens his arms and flops ungracefully back on the bed. the ceiling is very interesting.]

I wiped out.

[...

burp.]

Edited 2013-06-21 02:19 (UTC)

Yup. That's accurate.

[He yanks a phone out of his pocket and tosses it at Loki. He doesn't say what he did with it, but he figures Loki is smart enough to put it together. If he asks, he'll tell him. No use beating around the bush, and he doesn't mind being honest with him.]

Did you catch any of it before you nearly hit the floor?

[huh?

he picks it up and turns it between his fingers.]

It sounded something akin to a Charlie Brown special. The Winternights' one. There's a pumpkin, I think blood has been shed. You were fighting, it was very melodramatic. Though I assume things went fairly well, since there were no Timsplosions. And thus I counted myself lucky that we've all arrived in one piece aside from a hundred tiny small ones. I've heard it's most unpleasant, though not in my direct memory, it's not one I would revisit.

Can I have more pizza?

[there's a pause and he rolls over and his brows knit.]

What did you want on my phone? I would have showed you.

I had time to kill. You were out for a few hours.

[Jason says it idly as he gets up to grab the full box of pizza and sets it on the bed. He returns to his seat, closing the book finally and tucking it in the inside of his jacket.]

Nice stuff on there. Tim isn't much for the apologies, is he? And he can only manage it when someone points it out. Even better. My pizza is better.

Among other things, of course.

[and he's already reaching forward for it, grabbing the closest piece and scarfing it down with just as much ferocity as the last two. before long it's gone, and he's reaching for another.]

—As I'm sure that's not all you found.

[there's a lot of chewing.]

He's bad at most things like that, I've come to terms with it, you could say. If he wishes Loki to create what he feels like Loki should create, perhaps Loki should create it for him. It would validate his beliefs.

I don't blame him for sending around the warnings. But he definitely sings a different tune in other contexts.

[It's part of why Tim's point about letting him out of jail didn't hit the mark. From Jason's perspective, that was too far in the past, too much of something that was weighed more on Tim's hands. What it told Jason was that Tim had power and Jason did not. Tim did good, fixed things, and could open or shut doors when Jason needed him to.

There is a part of him, though, that is surprised Tim went to Loki. While there was still the element of going to the one source necessary to resolve the situation, Jason did read the action for its other merits: Tim knew that both Dicks, as well as himself, were not going to walk out of that situation with answers. Loki had answers. Tim just didn't seem to understand that the answer was usually not whatever crap he made up in his head.

He doesn't tell Loki that and he doesn't intend to tell Tim that. As far as he's concerned, the situation has been alleviated. He made his point, and he knows that next time, he has an ally in Loki. No, he doesn't intend to drag him around like he did Scarlet, but he knows he can count on him.

There is the niggling part of him that is aware that part of the "message" was that he snapped, fully and completely. Jason isn't unaware of that. He doesn't like to sit and think about it for too long, but that aspect is unavoidable. He doesn't want to pinpoint the steps to getting there, but all he knows is that the moment it turned out that Dick didn't remember his bad deeds, he wanted to make a point. From there, it was acting in accordance to those ideas.]

As for being what he thinks you are: I've done that before. For him. For Dick. For Bruce.

[He looks down at his hands. Wasn't he just doing that? No, forget it, don't think about it.]

Point is, it just doesn't help in the end. Be who you are. He's gonna decide who you are no matter what, but if you're Loki, be Loki.

[And if you're Jason Todd, then what? Who are you?

He frowns and dips his hand into his other pocket, tossing Loki his phone. Fair is fair.]

[Loki starts a bit when the phone is tossed to him, he has to abandoned his hold on the pizza, and when he catches it he almost fumbles. there's a moment where he's chewing and staring at the blank screen with some wonder before he immediately sets to work.

of course he looks to see what's on it, the pizza still in his mouth.]

As I've decided, and as Loki, if he wants to distrust me, then that distrust will be useful. It's kind of what I do.

[he says easily around the pizza, not really caring who he's admitting this to. Jason has blabbed some things over the network, but it wasn't anything pertaining directly to discrediting Loki, and showing direct judgement on Tim. he was sure that if anyone would understand, that he would.]

I'm sure he'll have a lot of questions the next time we talk, most of which pertaining to my abilities. He sought my aid to find you so no one became a gross stain on the pavement. I could have cared little of his other intentions until they were apparent, and then deal with them appropriately.

[actually that brings up another question, enough to make him look up from the phone.]

How do you fare?

I wish I got to blow something up. It might've helped me blow off some steam.

[It's only half a joke. There is a part of Jason that likes being caught up in the insanity: he likes running around and meeting those half-assed lowered expectations. It means that his rules can be flexible, or barely there at all, and that makes it interesting.]

Either way, what we got out of this is that no one here is moving forward. Even if I blew those people up, I'd just look bad, Tim would look like a saint, and what?

[He shakes his head.]

Destroying their resources does nothing. They don't screw with you. They don't care about us. We're just temporary additions to this crazy fucked up situation until they do whatever they do with us and find someone else.

[one of the reasons he got involved, aside from being famous and nosy, was because Tim having another one-up was probably not entirely a good thing. even when he thought about it more, nope, it probably wasn't. it would have spiraled and they'd be stuck again somewhere down the line, and he wasn't quite sure they already weren't going to be.

he feels powerless.

idle.]

Whatever power holds us can hold gods. It's no easy to feat to hold my brother, and yet it did, twice.

Gone the way of many others, without a trace. Poof!

[he holds out his hands.]

It's us who remain.

And their goals? I could guess. I could tell you what my Evil-Self would have wanted of an island full of mis-matched people from a variety of different dimensions. We've been assuming their are intentions bad.

[and he chews on his lip for a moment.]

But what if they're not?

It could be the Matrix, but the good Matrix.

No, it's not the Matrix.

[Jason ponders Loki's reference to his Evil-Self and shakes his head—at least mentally. This isn't about good and evil. It's about something, but it isn't that. Everything is too random and not everyone is good.]

Skip anything with your Evil-Self. Or anything to do with good or bad. It doesn't matter what their intentions are. This is bad. Plain and simple.

If we can't get their attention, maybe we can find what's caught theirs. Then we can bypass our invisible government, if they exist at all.

[gonna eat this pizza now, and probably talk with his mouth full.]

Or maybe we poofed into existence and they just had no where to put us. We're just someone's inconvenience.

"Poofed," huh.

[Jason considers that.]

I think we're someone's screwed up science project.

It may be. Or for someone's television reality show.

[picking bacon off of his pizza and eating it thoughtfully.]

Gods care little if they're called "fake" or "real," we're made of myths and legends. We're brought into existence by story.

[there's a bit of a shrug.]

Mortals are real, but it may not be far from the same.

...

Maybe we're thinking about this the wrong way.

[He considers him for a moment and shakes his head.]

There are alternate dimensions. I saw a guy throwing it around—different worlds, shit like that. I've been to them myself. I met an alternate me. He was wearing Bruce's costume. Chatty fucker, that one. But then again, look at where I am.

[He rolls his shoulders back, crossing his arms a moment later.]

I think that's closer to the truth. You gods might function different, but the rest of us? I'd like to think we're a little less pen-to-paper.

[he tries to sit up, wiggling up out of his seat and swooning to his feet. it's short lived, as the exhaustion settles into him and he falls back onto his rear onto the bed. he looks a bit disoriented for a moment, and then looks over at Jason again.]

Aye, there are alternate dimensions in the world where I come from as well. There are Nine Realms, other dimensions, and various time lines. All of which, in some way, impact the other. It could be that this place is independent of other dimensions, small an unique and create for another purpose, tucked away for no one to see.

But it's odd the ways that ideas merge into this one, don't they? All too convenient for simple dimensional travel.

[Private texts.]

Action.

Action.

Action.

Action.

Action.

Action.

Let's just say action forever.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject